


Good In Us

by AADevil



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s02e03 Family of Rogues, Episode: s02e09 Running to Stand Still, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-05-20 06:06:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 39,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5994265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AADevil/pseuds/AADevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard Snart's life was one that required a lot of tough choices, and he wasn't ashamed to admit he was no hero.<br/>In fact, he welcomed his title as a criminal. It was a part of him.</p><p>So what was up with Barry Allen thinking there's "good" in him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breaking Point

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to make this into a series !! I just feel like where I left it was pretty incomplete, and I can go a lot of ways with it.  
> It's going to focus mainly on Len, so I want to work on things like his relationship with Mick, Lisa, etc, but still make it a Coldflash fic !!  
> The timeline is pretty messed up and all over the place in general, just a warning.

Being powerless was something every human dreaded. A pure sign of weakness;helplessness. It’s what succumbing to emotions was. An indication that you’re unable to control your inner desires, to think rationally and act logically. It was also a great way to spot desperation. Even the greatest of cons can’t hide the signs; the cold dread slinking up your back, a crude combination with the adrenaline flushing your skin, the way your throat seems to tighten up. Leaving you pathetically choking out each syllable, somehow managing to fool the ones surrounding you that you’re not yet a lost cause. Your words are smoother to their ears, whereas they’re wretched and lacking to you, poisoning the taste in your mouth.

  
It’s not all the same for everyone. In moments of desperation, some resort to wallowing, others to begging. There are also those who lash out, their shallow anger containing so much more hurt, just another show of how vulnerable they truly are.

 

It was all so...Distasteful. Weak. Even at the most hopeless of times, Snart had already made his peace. Would face death unblinking, having resolved himself long, long ago, with his knees buckled, lip split and bleeding as he glared at the face of what he would have called a monster before. He knew now how childish he had been, unwilling to face that really, it was his own father who unblinkingly struck him each time, with a foreign,  _cold_ stare.  
  
Despicable, and pathetic. That’s what Lewis Snart was. The man who’d loved him lifetimes ago, who he had given his respect and admiration to. The man who spat in his face and hit him so hard, he swore he wouldn't wake up again, lying unmoving on the ground, vision fading. But he always did, and he cursed himself, because he hadn’t been strong enough- and that? That meant someone else would pay for _his_ fuck up.

  
So when he saw his sister with a bruise at the back of her neck, the ugliest mix of yellowing green and purple he’d ever seen, the hate he felt was directed at himself and no one else. If he’d been better, than she wouldn't have gotten hurt, and he could have protected her. But that was just the thing, he could never be better. It wasn’t something he could run from, he knew. Had known it all along, that he was wretched, and twisted up inside, just like his father. Never would let anyone else tell him that, though, would shoot them right through the head in a second with a cool gaze, and without flinching.  
  
  
The memory of it later on in a cold, empty room, would bring on the familiar emptiness, gun weighing heavy in his hand as he let himself be reminded that there was no saving him. There would never be a redemption arc for Leonard Snart.

Knowing that should make him feel more, but the only thing to feel would be the cold steel slipping from his fingers, and the cold breeze of the night biting against his skin from the balcony. 

  
It was easy to treat it all as a game, because if not for that, then he’d have to face that there was something _wrong_ and undeniably broken in him. But that wasn’t right. Leonard Snart was _not_ a broken man.

  
He was in control, always. Never letting anything take him by surprise, planning ahead, anticipating every possibility. It made it all so much better, especially the rush. The thrill was all too real, and it filled him up, even the hollow, gaping hole in his chest. Never lasted too long, but that was alright, because he wasn’t planning on stopping the chase any time soon. Or ever, for that matter. Because if not for his thieving, what really could you say about Leonard Snart?

If you stripped that away, the remnants would be pathetic, no doubt. A child. A despicable kid who abandoned his sister, claiming it would be better that way, because it really was his fault that their father became who he was- _what_ he was. Convinced himself that he’d come back for her when he could, until he got locked up. Yet more proof that he wasn’t capable of doing anything right, as if he’d needed more.

 

Which is why he behaved himself, or tried to, at least. Because he wasn’t one to lash out, that’s what _he_ did. Anger was something unforgivable in his eyes, a sign of such cowardice that when he felt it growing within him, he’d dig his nails so hard into his skin until the blood would drip down his clenched fists, drawing his mind away from the true pain. It wasn’t always easy to control, though, that was something he perfected later on. Before that, when it became impossible for him to hold it back, and the feeling boiled through his skin, burning vehemently, melting his cool exterior in mere seconds- it took over him.

It was always so explosive, and the first time it had happened, he lost himself completely. The encompassing range blinding him. When he came to be, there was a throbbing in his hands. Knuckles bruised purple and bleeding red, and the feeling of trickling blood going down the throbbing, open wound in his head.That wasn’t what had caught his attention, though. It was the people _he_ had hurt, sprawled out on the ground, bleeding, clutching at their injuries. He could see broken bits of teeth lying, and seeing the inflated purple and green bits of skin would remind him of a time he'd rather forget.  
If you asked him now, he wouldn’t be able to tell you what the catalyst was, couldn’t even remember what had driven him to blow up. Instead, he very clearly remembered the sudden it had all felt numb, and how he saw himself standing from above, eyes empty, unforgiving. Knees buckling as guards tased him, shouting warnings that he couldn’t register as he fell to the ground with zero resistance.

 

Solitary confinement was even worse. It was too quiet. At least with gen pop, there was always some sort of background noise, something he could focus on when his thoughts got out of control. They’d allowed him some light in the room, but it was hard to tell whether that was any better. It gave him a crisp view of the cracked walls and the dirty sheets, everything all too close together. He vaguely remembered refusing medical treatment, settling instead for watching his blood slowly dribble down his grossly bruised and swollen knuckles, to the ground as he pretended-and even convinced himself at one point-that he wasn’t aching.

 

_Drip._

  
_Drip._

  
_Drip._

 

It was then he swore to himself to never let his emotions get the best of him again, never to hurt just because he wanted to, only because it’d feel good, pushing his pain onto someone else. It didn’t matter who the person was, innocent, guilty. Leonard Snart couldn’t allow himself to get lost, could never stand to watch himself truly become like _him_.

 

Afterwards, he distanced himself. Methodically, of course. Always aware of when to stop, when to push. Before he knew it, life had truly become a game, and he acted like he was the game master. Always smirking, making jabs, taking what he wanted without consequence. Not because it wasn’t wrong, of course, but because he was too good, and wouldn’t let himself be caught. Never again.

  
Knowing what he did made it hard, sometimes, sure. That he was a con, and a criminal like his father, decidedly a better one, but still. Like father like son.

  
So when Lewis Snart sauntered back into his life, he didn’t reprimand him. Couldn’t, really. With his sister’s life, the only person he really would do anything for, in jeopardy. It was quite the disturbance to his carefully constructed life, though, a jolt to remind him of how he hadn’t been able to save Lisa when they were smaller, the proof of his inadequacy forever scarring her skin still. Leonard Snart couldn’t let that repeat, he’d changed, he was in control now. A leader.

Yet that didn’t seem to mean much. It certainly didn’t make him feel any less helpless as he stood in front of the man who’d ruined him-who had the audacity to call him _son_ \- it reminded him of the many times he’d been taught a lesson, as he’d liked to call it. The thing is, he wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that the deranged asshole had really been trying to teach them about the values of life through beating the shit out of them. Truly iconic, really.

 

It was hard to resist the urge to power up his cold gun, to feel the chill travel up his hand, reminding him of the many times he’d wielded the weapon, instances where he was the one in charge. It was all he wanted to do, let the blinding light of the frost encompass the room as his father fell to the ground, motionless, dead, finally _gone._  
  
But that had never been an option, not with the consequences that dangled in front of him. Using his _own daughter_ . It should have made him feel sickened, but Leonard Snart felt empty. That’s the only thing he would let himself feel as he carefully constructed several plans in his head. There was nothing he could do. Couldn’t stop Lewis Snart from using him without fucking up somehow, without compromising the one person he just _couldn’t_. Could never, ever, allow to be hurt.

 

That was when Barry Allen showed up, dressed in a leather jacket, spinning some lie that was honestly ridiculous, because the kid didn’t look like he could steal a candy bar, let alone do something as illegal as hacking. It was careless of him, needlessly imposing, sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. It’d only make things worse, because the Snart family was too far gone to be saved, and the last thing he needed was for a self-righteous superhero to try and take it on himself to ‘fix’ it, or him, for that matter. Captain Cold didn’t need help, certainly not from the Flash, and _especially_ not from Barry Allen. Didn’t need his pity, as was inevitable. He’d survived so long on his own, and that’s what he did, because Leonard Snart was and always would be a survivor.

 

As much as he wanted to voice all his thoughts, he wasn’t in a place to make demands, so he let it be, doubtful it could get any worse than it already was. If the hero wanted to help so much, let him. It didn’t change what he needed to do-Nothing really did.

 

The kid offered a strange and fleeting sense of solace with his presence. Could have almost led him to believe that there could be another way. Almost. So when he stood witness to him collapsing to the ground after being shot, predictably, he didn’t let himself feel the creeping sense of guilt. He’d known that it would have come to this, it was only natural. Besides, he’d been actively against receiving any sort of ‘help’, it wasn’t his fault. That’s why he also didn’t feel the sliver of hope that the collapsed body was still breathing-He was the Flash, after all. Captain Cold had strategically tested him, had seen how fast he was, and dodging a bullet should have been nothing. Instead of thinking any further, Leonard Snart allowed and welcomed the deepening of the pit inside of him. It wasn’t any of his concern, whether Barry Allen lived or died. It didn’t matter-As long as his sister, Lisa, was safe, he couldn’t give a rat’s ass what happened to anyone else on this damned planet.

 

Not sparing another look, Leonard Snart didn’t let his emotions control him. Had experienced too much to allow himself to be lost so easily. Instead, he kept up the charade, every word coming easily to him, unknowingly relying on his gun as a reminder of who he was. How he had changed and grown over time, proof that he wasn’t the scared little boy who ran first chance he got.

 

He kept a close eye on the man who destroyed him, and as much as he’d like to think that his gaze was as calculated as always, he knew his hatred was slipping through the edges. The sharpness to his voice was apparent, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not shooting the damn bastard was taking all he had, anyway. So he kept his eyes peeled, glaring with an ugly scowl on his face, no doubt. But still, he proceeded with the heist with practiced ease, unwilling to compromise his sister.

When he turned and saw the familiar figure of the Flash, he raised his weapon on reflex. It wasn’t surprising to see that the kid had survived through it after all, and he ignored the unexplainable sense of relief to focus on the stronger emotion of _hate_.  
  
  
  
“Shoot him, son.”

 

It was an order, he wasn’t given a choice, as always. Even then, he hesitated. For Lisa, he’d do it, but he foolishly held on to the hope that he may not have to. Because the Flash was the careless kid who had risked his own well being to help him out, ensure the safety of Lisa. Couldn’t repay him by stopping his heart. Besides, he wasn’t the one Leonard Snart _really_ wanted to hurt.

 

“Kill him or you’ll never see your sister alive.”

 

The threat wasn’t an unexpected one, but it still served to remind him what the man was really capable of. It tainted even the happier memories of him, when they’d been an actual family, made him doubt everything. Whenever he looked back on his past, it was only with disgust, and remorse. All the smiles and laughter seemed too hollow, and he could never really recall being happy-it all seemed too muddled. Fake.  
  
Locking his jaw in place, he ran the scene over in his head, eyes set on the Flash. The feeling in his gut was an unpleasant one as he furrowed his eyebrows, grip unwavering on his gun. He was clearly hesitating, and couldn’t find it in himself to actually pull the trigger. It wasn’t only that the kid didn’t deserve to have his life stolen, it was also that he didn’t want to succumb to Lewis Snart’s wishes, would rather die than see him come out on top, unscathed, with a tight grip on him and his sister in the worst possible way. A sick replay of their past.  
  
  
As much as he’d deny it, Leonard Snart felt something akin to fear. The feeling was all too familiar, nauseating, blocking all of his senses. The chill from his weapon did nothing to the burning heat he could feel rising above his skin, a feeling he _despised_. It was what weakness felt like, but he couldn’t let it show. Had to ignore the rising bile at the back of his throat in favour of doing what he had to, as he always did. This wasn’t any different. He _had_ to.

 

“Lisa’s safe.”

 

The words he’d been silently hoping for seemed to shake his entire world, and he could feel the relief washing over him. Nothing had ever sounded so melodic to his ears. Shoulders falling, he lowered his arm as he finally let out a sigh, unaware that he had been holding his breath at all.  
  
His recovery was almost instantaneous, not lingering on the good news, a slight shift in his footing as he raised his gun, aiming at at his _father_ , the man who had not only torn him apart, but had come so close to doing the same to his sister. Leonard Snart didn’t hesitate in the moment, didn't wait for a reaction, finger drawing the trigger back as a blinding blue and white light shot out of the cold gun. Even without the protection of his goggles, he didn’t flinch back, never looked away.

 

“You’re working with the Flash-I thought you hated him.”

 

His arm had fallen limp at his side, as if finally feeling the weight of the cold gun bearing on him. It should have made him feel lighter, because he was taking a heavy weight off of his shoulders-Right?  
  
But it was hard to focus on that, when Lewis Snart’s last words were filled with such contempt, a true sense of perplexity to his voice. He would have laughed if it wasn’t for the emptiness that was threatening to swallow him whole. Somewhere deep inside, maybe he’d been hoping for an apology for the man he was-had been, now. How he hadn’t really meant to hurt-

 

“Not as much as….I _hate_ you.” He cut his thoughts off, a broken quality to his voice despite his best efforts to keep himself steady. Any sense of hope should have been crushed long ago, but that didn’t matter, because it was all gone now. There was bubbling anger along with the many other sensations threatening to drive him insane. Still, he managed to feel oddly blank.

  
It was a scenario he’d imagined a billion times-Given, not in the exact same way. But it wasn’t nearly as satisfying or as liberating as he'd anticipated it to be. Leonard Snart felt himself kneeling down, not completely aware of his body as he clutched the weapon close to him, eyes set on what was now the corpse of Lewis Snart. He watched, as if expecting the body to suddenly come back to life, and grasp at him and never let go.

 

Lingering, his thoughts replayed in a quick stream every event that had led up to this moment, and it all seemed so _worthless_. He wanted to laugh. It was all so hilarious, really. So why did he feel so defeated?

 

“Lisa was safe, why did you do that?”

 

His head turned at hearing the voice, and he didn’t even think to recoil when he felt hands grabbing at the cold gun. He just let go.

 

The kid didn’t sound judgmental, if anything, he sounded concerned. Imagine that, feeling concern for Captain Cold. Looking back, he’d resolve himself to get stronger, because the last thing he wanted was pity from his 'enemy', but even then, he wouldn't feel the slightest hint of regret at any of his actions. Even in the moment, the Flash standing next to him, his weapon secured in his gloved hands, didn’t feel like an enemy. It was oddly comforting, and maybe it had something to do with how vulnerable he felt, but Barry Allen seemed so _genuine_ , a foreign element in his life-and one that he openly welcomed.

 

“He broke my sister’s heart.” Leonard Snart sounded determined as he openly confided in what should be his nemesis, yet seemed the closest thing to ease he could get. Eyes set on Barry from his crouched position, he’d later get to confide much more in him, and one day, maybe he wouldn’t look back on the day with such loathing, and instead, be reassured by his should be enemy.  
  
  
But now, as he unwillingly bared his soul, it was hard to miss how so, _so_ very crushed everything about him looked to be, even with the hate brimming strong in his eyes still.

 

“Only fair I break his.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit this was actually just vent work, Len just happened to be the perfect victim !  
> Sorry for the repetition of 'Leonard Snart', 'Lewis Snart', I just wanted to show the connection he makes between himself and him, while actually never thinking of Lisa as 'Lisa Snart'.
> 
> Thank you for reading, though !! I hope you enjoyed it. I welcome every single kudos and comment [really lights up my world <3!!]  
> Please do point out any typos/mistakes, I'd be happy to fix them !


	2. Payback

****Being back in prison was an experience similar to a high schooler being given detention. At least for Len, anyways. Sure, it was bothersome, and infinitely unpleasant, but he would be out before anyone knew what to do about it. It was just a matter of timing, and over the years, he’d gotten quite good at that. Downside? Well, it was prison. There was nothing fun about it.  
  
  
Best thing to do was to lay low, and that’s what Snart did. Avoided the other inmates as much as possible, and counted down the days to when he would be free. All that free time _did_ allow an analysis of what actually landed him in such an unpleasant place. He’d killed his father. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel any better. But he didn’t feel any worse, either. There was some stupid, naive part of him still that wished things were different, but that was what he liked to call weakness. Leonard Snart had long ago come to terms with who he was. A criminal. Nothing more, nothing less. Okay, maybe he was a little more than _just_ a criminal. How about a villain? He sure as hell played the part well enough.

 

Captain Cold. The enemy of the Flash. Len felt as if he had bared a little too much of himself during their last few encounters, allowed too much to be seen. It was hardly anything he could take back, but it wouldn’t stop him from being irritated about it. The worst part of it was that Flash now thought he was a good person. Laughable, really. Something about his hero complex probably made him seek out the best in all the wrong things.

 

  
Their last encounter was still fresh in his mind, Barry Allen across from him, separated by the glass, a smug smile on his face.

 

_  
“He deserved it.” The statement didn’t receive a second thought as it spilled out. It was fact, after all. Lewis Snart had had it coming all his life. Remaining wary, he kept his eyes on Barry, who was smiling as if they were in an amusing situation. It made him feel naturally defensive. What part of the torture that he and Lisa had went through was worth smiling at?_

 

_“Is that funny to you?” Len’s voice was almost a whisper. If he had his gun, he would have had it powered up by this point. Not for the theatrics, no. He wasn’t Captain Cold right now, he was just Leonard Snart, who was glaring at Barry-how dare he make little of his life?  
Holding back his rushing thoughts, he made sure none of his feelings were displayed. He did, however, make sure to look as contemptful as possible, all the while keeping his calculated gaze trained on Barry-who had somehow thought that some boasting was in order for putting him in Iron Heights, no doubt. _

 

_“No,” Barry’s smile faded as he shook his head ever so slightly, expression honest, not a hint of pity or disgust. He looked at Len, not breaking their eye contact. It was different from their encounters in costume, which all were relatively standoffish, with teasing taunts thrown here and there. Yet it was way more intense. “What’s funny is-I finally figured out your secret.”_

 

_“What secret would that be?” Eyebrows tightly drawn together, Len could tell he wasn’t going to be very fond of wherever this conversation was going towards._

 

_“You’d do anything to protect your sister.”_

 

 _It was pretty hard not to take that as a threat. Even with Flash’s heroic nature, there wasn’t anything stopping him from taking advantage of his enemies’ weaknesses. After all, that is what Snart tended to do himself. It was unnerving._  
  
  
_Len took in a small breath, “I know your secret too.”_

_  
Almost automatically, his lips tugged upwards, to serve as a reminder that he wouldn’t be afraid to reveal Flash’s identity to every single person even remotely interested-To show that he was still the one in control. Really, Len knew that the  possibility of the Flash and his little teammates hurting Lisa was slim, considering they had saved her life, but it still didn’t stop him from being wary. After all, people were unpredictable like that, and he definitely wasn’t about to put his faith in a kid playing out his childhood fantasies of saving the world._

_  
“Better hope I don’t talk in my sleep.” There was a bitter edge to the statement, but it didn’t seem to throw Barry off even a little, as he responded immediately, with full confidence that he really shouldn’t have._

 

_  
“You won’t.”_

 

_  
Was that another threat? Len’s head slightly tilted to the side, he carefully watched through the glass as Barry leaned forward in the equally uncomfortable chair on the other side, arm sliding to rest on the table. No, his tone wasn’t even remotely threatening. What the hell was he playing at?_

 

_“Today just proved what I’ve always known.”_

  
  
  
_  
Pause._

 

 __  
  
“There’s good in you, Snart.” 

 

_Len lightly huffed, lip quirking a bit higher as he wondered if he had heard that one right._

 

_“You don’t have to admit it to me. But there’s a part of you that knows you don’t have to let your past define you. A part of you that really wants to be more than just a criminal.”_

 

_Touching. Len usually shrugged off statements like that, from people who assumed they knew who he was. But for some reason, hearing it from Barry made him want to challenge the statement. He had accepted long ago that there wasn’t any changing who he was, and he’d been doing everything according to that very true perception, and still, some kid had the audacity to assume the best of him? He’d shot his own father, and still, Barry was looking at him as if he wasn’t a cold blooded killer, spouting nonsense that implied he could be more than he was-when really, he had reached his full potential long ago. Ignoring the irritation underneath his skin, Len smirked._

 

_“So I should be a hero like you, Barry?” Even without his drawl, he made sure to make it obvious that such a concept was laughable, and plain ridiculous. He knew better than to fool himself. “What exactly does that pay again?”  It was a deflecting technique. An obvious one at that, but he was a criminal, what was Barry expecting?_

 

_“It’s just a matter of time.” Barry went on, as if Snart hadn’t spoken, “Something you’ll have a lot of, in here.”_

 

_“Not as much as you think.” Staring intently, the implication behind his words was quite clear. The fact that Barry genuinely thought he’d stay locked up was hilarious._

 

_  
“Be seeing you.”_

 

  
He’d meant it. Snart wasn’t planning on allowing the Flash to preserve his smug ‘victory’ for long. Being put in the metahuman ward wasn’t going to derail that plan. It was meant to keep metas in, and didn’t quite account for an infiltration case. Plus, he had enough knowledge of the place to take advantage of its weak points, getting out would be a walk in the park. A long, casual walk.

 

Despite all that, the words _‘There’s good in you’_ kept repeating in his head without permission.

 

Damn kid.

 

* * *

 

“Are you out of your _mind_ , breaking into my home!?”

 

Well, the instant anger had been an unexpected touch, but it certainly made it a much more worthwhile experience. After all, Len had been aiming to rile him up a little. He’d been itching to do so after that little speech of his. It was nice to see he was welcomed with hostility and suspicion, proving that his criminal rank was still alive and well. He _had_ broken into Barry’s home, after all, so the position wasn’t really all that that surprising.  
  
  
Pinning him against the wall, Barry was seething. How cute.

  
“Careful, made an upgrade to the cold gun. If I release my upgrade from the handle, the core goes critical. You might make it-” Glancing over at Iris West, he allowed the smirk to break out on his face, “ _She_ won’t.”

  
Predictably, Barry let go of him. It really was such a clear weakness how much he cared for others. Snart had seen it on display multiple times. It would be his downfall eventually. Len wasn’t exactly one to judge, what with Lisa and all, but to him, it seemed like Barry cared all too easily, and all too much. He’d gotten a hold of the so called superhero by exploiting said weakness-through kidnapping. It was tasteless, and it didn’t bring him any pleasure, but it did the job quite well. Besides, no one got hurt. Permanently.

 

His attention shifted to Iris, who seemed appropriately uncomfortable due to his presence. She wasn’t exactly cowering in fear, though. In fact, she seemed all too ready to show Len that she wasn’t scared of him, with the snarky comments and all.

 

“Why are you here, Snart?”

 

Again, with the hostility, interrupting the amusing banter, or whatever it was supposed to be, that he had going with Iris. Way to cut his fun short, but considering his history with the people Barry cares about, plus the fact that he had literally _just_ threatened Iris’ life, that was to be expected. Maybe it would serve as a much needed wake up call.

 

“I got the Noel spirit, wanted to give you a gift. Mardon broke me and Jesse out to kill you.” Looking away from the house, where his eyes had been wandering towards his explanation, he made eye contact with Barry as to establish that it wasn’t a hoax, and to make sure he got it. It’d be pathetic if the Flash ended up dying because he failed to listen properly to a nicely wrapped, hand delivered warning. “Jessie’s on board of course, he’s shaking with excitement. Me? I’m gonna pass.”

 

“Why, you grew a conscience?”

 

“Mardon wants revenge. Jesse wants chaos. I’m just not...Invested like they are.”

 

As much as he knew their skills would come in handy in his growing crew, he would leave those plans for a later time. He couldn’t exactly control them as of right now, not with Mardon having an upper hand over him. As much as he hated to admit it, those powers of his were no joke, and he wasn’t going to get into a fight over nothing, he’d much rather try his luck when Mardon felt more...Complacent. Jesse? He was a completely another case. His methods were distasteful, hurting just for the sake of it, no sense or purpose to it. _But_ , Len could make use of him, too. Establish some order with the help of a team. All in good time.

 

“There’s no money in it for you.”

 

  
Exactly. At least _someone_ got it.

 

  
“There’s never much for non-profit work.”

 

“If you’re not in with them, then tell me where they are.”

 

“ _Nah_. Consider me more of a Secret Santa-Besides, you and your friends love to solve a good mystery.”

 

He wasn’t about to risk screwing up his chances with his possible future crew mates. Barry also didn’t need any more encouragement to think of him as a ‘good person’, he was already head deep in delusion. Pausing in front of Barry for a second, he spared both him and Iris a glance, not allowing himself to linger as he moved to leave. Len ignored Barry’s audible scoff, but couldn’t exactly do the same to what came next.

 

“You’re full of it, Snart.”

 

He stopped.

 

“I think, my friends and I save your sister’s life and you just can’t stand owing me a marker.”

 

The smirk was long gone, along with his amusement at having riled up the Flash. He wasn’t exactly wrong, but Len didn’t appreciate it being brought up. It had all just been an extended moment of weakness that shouldn’t have involved Team Flash. But it had, and Len wasn’t ignorant, he knew things probably wouldn’t have worked out the way they had if it wasn’t for their interruption. There had been much more risk before their forced involvement, and he was glad he hadn’t been forced to take it. His sister’s life wasn’t something he ever wanted to gamble for.

 

“I hate to break it to you, but that-That right there is called honour.”

 

“Go on make your pitch, I can see you’re dying to.”

 

“Help me stop them.”

 

“Sorry, I’m not interested in being a _hero_ .” He narrowed his eyes, head turned towards Barry with a faint smirk. The idea was far fetched for many reasons. The most obvious one being that he was a criminal-There was no way Barry would be simply willing to overlook all the bad he’d done. He’d kidnapped his friends, and killed people. It didn’t matter that he didn’t hurt unless absolutely necessary, the fact was that he didn’t _have_ to hurt them at all, at least according to Barry Allen. But it was too late for him to change his ways, try and seek a life in a place he didn’t belong, with people who would never really understand him.

 

Barry huffed out a laugh, clearly not convinced.

 

“You’re doing a pretty lousy job of being a villain this week.”

 

Len was much more stiff now, his amusement much less. He was right. What kind of a villain went through all the trouble to warn his enemy of danger? He’d thought the whole thing through before taking action, but no matter what, he couldn’t have just let his debt to the Flash remain unpaid. Still, it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

 

Dropping the theatrics, Len didn’t force a comeback.

 

“Merry Christmas, Barry.”

 

* * *

 

That probably could have went a whole lot better than it did. At least he’d gotten the job done, and now he could just distance himself from the whole situation. He wasn’t interested in pursuing a vendetta against the Flash, and he also wasn’t hero material. Two things that he had established, yet he found himself entertaining the second idea. Not seriously, of course, he wasn’t about to become delusional. It was just something that stuck in his head as he walked through the cold breeze towards his motorcycle.  
  
  
His whole life, he had been told what he was, and pretty much all the time, it had been an unpleasant experience for him. Still, they were lessons drilled into him, it’s probably why he ended up the scum he was today. It’s not like Len hated who he was-far from it. He was a damn good thief. But sometimes he hoped things had turned out differently. For Lisa’s sake. He hadn’t meant to drag her into his world, to screw up her chances at living a better life.

 

Len scoffed at the thought, hands rubbing together slowly as he took a route through the alley way, eyes wandering up towards the sky. There wasn’t much to see, what with all the city lights, but there were a couple spots of lights. The stars were much more visible from his warehouses, usually. Since they were placed in remote areas, where they wouldn’t be found, but he never really took the time to look up. Couldn’t exactly afford to.  
It probably inevitable that he and Lisa ended up the way they were, with only each other to rely on. He trusted Mick to have his back, but their relationship tended to be unpredictable.

   
Not once had he considered trusting Barry, or giving him a chance, yet still, he had proven himself. Must be something about his heroic nature. It wasn’t that he cared about Len or his sister, it was just his ego.

   
Yeah, no. That sounded far fetched even to him. It was more likely that it was his overly positive perception that allowed him to help out a pair of criminals. If he had been so willing to look past all the grime between them, then why had he gone about locking up metahumans in his makeshift prison? It was hardly ethical. Len didn’t regret his double cross concerning that matter-Len didn’t regret a lot of things. He wondered if he was going to regret his decision on warning Barry. It didn’t bode well for his criminal future, having Central City’s hero thinking he was worth saving, or whatever Barry thought he was doing. Len was very comfortable in his current lifestyle, thank you very much, and the last thing he needed was some misplaced hope for him from his enemy.

  
He needed a drink. Or two.   
  
  
His go to place would be Saints and Sinners, but he found himself wanting the quiet. Made it easier to get drunk shamelessly, and forget about whatever Barry’s deal was for as long as possible.

   
With a lengthy sigh, Len stopped besides his bike and shoved a hand in his pocket to dig his keys out. It was pretty hard, what with his freezing fingers. He couldn’t exactly feel them anymore. That’s what he got for not bothering to put on gloves. One thing was for sure, though. Leonard Snart was not about to involve himself any further with the Flash. At least not for the night. He had better plans for the future-Ones that involved a lot more stealing, with a lot more smugness coming from his part.  
Barry had been tense throughout most of their exchange, but still, his expression when he had started going on about Len’s inner goodness had been an annoyingly bright one. The kid had almost looked happy, as if having won their little exchange.

 

Huffing out a breath, he turned the keys in the ignition, hood pulled up over his ears as he played over the thought in his head. The word _adorable_ came to mind, but Len refused to dwell on it. If anything, the Flash was adorable like a persistent and naive dog that just doesn't know when to quit barking.

 

Len _really_ needed that drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm relying too hard on the episode's scripts. I swear, this is the last time, though ! I'm really going to be picking what canon to throw out of the window pretty soon.  
> Thank you for reading !! Please do point out any typos !


	3. Miscalculation

****Turns out drinking hadn’t been the best idea. At the time, it seemed reasonable enough, and it had managed to successfully get Len’s mind off of the unpleasant side of things, but aside from that, he just ended up falling asleep quicker. His very clear disregard for reason had resulted in him not drinking water, hence his aching hangover.

  
Why was it so bright, anyway?  
  
  
  
“You better not be dead.”

  
  
With a muffled groan into his pillow, Len forced his eyelids to stay open long enough to look at the figure in his doorway.

  
Lisa.

  
  
Of course.

  
  
How had she even known where he was staying? The confusion must have been evident on his face, because Lisa smirked, hand sliding up to rest on her waist as she went on to explain.

 

“You called me last night. Sounded pretty drunk off your ass.”

 

Of course he had. Len pressed a hand against his temple, head turned away from the light blasting in through the curtains that Lisa must have drawn. Said culprit walked towards the bed, heels way too loud on his wooden floors as she stopped besides him, shielding him from the windows and forcing him to look up.  
Luckily, it didn’t look like she was going to taunt him. Instead, she was offering him a glass of water, with a couple of pills outstretched in her other hand. Not bothering to ask, he simply reached and gulped the pills down, chugging the glass in one go. He muttered a quiet thanks and laid his head back down on the pillow, thinking on how exactly he had managed to get himself such a searing headache. Drunk off his ass? Len had always disliked drinking too much, only drinking a glass or two when appropriate. He must have lost track while he tried to will away the persistent memories of Barry’s words, and his innocent smile.

 

Guess he hadn’t managed to drink those memories away, after all. Rubbing his head in circular motions, he was vaguely aware of his sister speaking, but he was too busy trying to think of his plans for the day. Len didn’t have a particular heist planned, aside from the rough plans. There was always the option of working on The Rogues. Speaking of, he should probably check what happened to Mardon and Jesse. Probably ended up in jail.

 

“-not even listening, are you? Lenny?” Leaning forward, Lisa waved her hand in front of Len’s face, frowning. “What’s wrong with you? Do I need to perform an exorcism or something?”

 

“’m fine, Lise.” His voice was way too hoarse, and it even felt scratchy in his throat. Right, water. “You need something?”

 

“Maybe an explanation for why you were drinking? And more importantly, who is Barry Allen, and why have you not mentioned him to me before?”

 

Len tensed, and shut his eyes, breathing out through his nose. Great. “Barry Allen?” He tried to play it dumb, knowing very well his sister was unlikely to buy the act. It would probably be easier to find out what exactly she knew, though. Going by her wording, it didn’t seem like she knew he was the Flash, which meant his secret was safe. Having broken his promise due to some bad decision in terms of drinking would have been pretty low, even for him.

 

Lisa rolled her eyes as she slid onto the edge of the bed, the smirk on her face telling him that she wasn’t about to drop the subject any time soon. “You were very insistent on his-and I quote-stupid, credulous smile.”

 

  
What?

 

  
“I know, I can’t believe you managed to pronounce ‘credulous’ in the state you were in, either!” She teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she shifted closer, fingers lightly tapping on the bed sheet. “Seriously, though. Spill.”

 

It was way too early in the morning for this. Len confirmed the thought by checking the watch on his wrist, showing that it was barely past 8:30. He tended to wake up earlier on regular days, but circumstances prevented him from even having attempted to perform such a feat.  
Instead of replying to Lisa’s prodding, he slid himself off the bed, stumbling very slightly as he tried to blink the ache away. Once he felt he was stable enough, he turned on his feet, and looked at Lisa, who was still sitting on the bed in all her faux-innocence. Too bad he couldn’t ignore her forever.

 

“Nothing to spill about.”

 

He could just as easily come up with some lie to occupy her, but he didn’t exactly want to dig himself in a deeper hole. Knowing Lisa, he’d have to do it anyway.

 

“Uhhuh, cause you pining over some boy is an everyday occurrence, right?”

 

Giving her a sharp look, Len resisted the urge to sigh.  
  
There weren’t enough words to express how inaccurate the word ‘pining’ was to describe his feelings against the Flash, so instead, he just turned away, making his way towards the bathroom to brush his teeth, and freshen up. It would probably give him some time to come up with some way to fend off his sister, at least for the time being. He couldn’t risk breaking his side of the deal.

  
Walking into the bathroom, Len stopped in front of the mirror, hands resting at the sides of the sink as he examined his face. The bags under his eyes had gotten heavier, no doubt worsened by how crappy he felt at the moment. He ran his fingers over his cheek, the stubble scratching his finger tips. Yeah. That had to go.  
After brushing his teeth and shaving, he decided that he might as well fully wake himself up, and ended up taking a cold shower. It wasn’t exactly pleasant. The freezing water felt like hail against his heated skin, but it did fully wake him up, which is what he needed. It was an established routine at this point, taking cold showers to focus, and hot ones to relax. He rarely got to enjoy the latter.

 

When he got out of the shower, he put on a pair of pants and a long sleeved shirt to go along, using the towel to wipe off the remaining droplets of water on his face. Making his way towards the kitchen, he wasn’t at all surprised to find Lisa sitting at the table holding a toasted piece of bread with jam spread on it. Len hadn’t even known that he had jam, or bread, for that matter. Deciding not to comment, he made his way over to the coffee maker, relishing the few seconds of silence Lisa had chosen to allow him.

 

“Is he cute?”

 

-Short but so sweet.

 

Thinking back on it, last time he had checked, Lisa had been out of town. It was odd that he hadn’t been told of her return, meaning that she must have come back yesterday sometime. Len turned, leaning against the counter as he raised a brow.

 

“Why’re you here?”

 

“Geez, I sure am happy to see you too, dear brother! I’ve been doing just fine, thank you for asking.”

 

Len tilted his head to the side, staring at his sister with an arched brow. He made sure to look at her long enough to know that he was _not_ amused before turning around and opening up the cupboard, pulling out a cheesy Christmas mug with snowflakes scattered around it. Taking his sweet own time, he reached over and poured the coffee in. He considered it for a second, and then reached over to put in a spoonful of sugar. It was pretty surprising that Lisa hadn’t spoken up since he had turned around. There was no way that she could be that agreeable. Basically every move Lisa made inconvenienced Len in some manner.  
Feeling suspicious, he picked up his mug and turned around, only to be greeted with the sight of Lisa rummaging through his phone. His burner phone. Suffice to say, she wasn’t going to find whatever she was looking for in there.

 

Once actually focusing on last night, he vaguely remembered giving his sister said phone after she barged her way into the place, saying something about how much of an idiot he was while he did his utmost best to tune her out. It had been a pretty successful attempt, as he hardly remembered what she had said.

  
Sliding onto the seat opposite of Lisa’s on the round kitchen table, he took a sip of his coffee, all the while watching her press the buttons impatiently.

   
  
“Any luck?” Len smirked behind his cup, her desperation becoming more amusing by the second.

 

“Ugh, no.” She carelessly tossed the phone back on to the table, and preoccupied herself with taking a large bite off of her toast. “I _swear_ , Lenny, if you don’t tell me about this Barry Allen right now I’m going to hound you forever.”

   
  
Just as he reached over towards his coffee, Lisa swiped his cup, taking a big gulp as she wiggled a finger in front of his face. “You _know_ I’m dedicated.”

 

She was. Annoyingly so. He sighed, standing from the chair and walking over to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water.

   
  
“Fine.”  
  
 

Better to get it out of the way to. It was obvious that this was the only way to fend her off. Come up with a believable lie. Tipping back the bottle, he took his time drinking the water, stalling as he worked up a story he had been planning since his shower.

 

“He’s a CSI.”

 

Lisa’s eyes widened impossibly as she started choking on _his_ coffee, hitting her chest several times as she coughed. Len remained unimpressed, and not at all concerned, just waiting for her to regain her breath.

 

“ _What!?_ Have you finally gone insane? How did you even- _What?_ ”

 

Every good lie has some truth in it, Len. Relax. Rolling his tense shoulders, his mind briefly entertained the idea of a massage, but there were many reasons why that was a bad idea. Too many reasons. Len just couldn’t have good things in life, could he? His only source of it was from heists, and all those things he stole. Most of which were absent from the place they were currently in. He had a ‘main’ safehouse, which was the closest to being his actual home, which is why he was rarely ever there. Couldn’t risk it being found.

 

“He was working on one of my _cases_ .” His drawl slipped in towards the end, putting emphasis on his words. Lightly tapping his fingers on the counter, he scanned the open kitchen area, wondering if the news would have covered what had happened yesterday with the Flash. “Met him by accident, took the liberty of using him to find out what they had on me. Which, predictably, was a lot of _nothing_.”

  
It wasn’t really a lie, considering he had the Flash wipe all of his records.

 

“ _Right_ , and what, you casually fucked him?”

 

Len would have been taken aback by the completely straight face Lisa was pulling, as if interrogating him, if only he hadn’t experienced the same scene so many times before. No matter what he answered that question with, he was probably screwed. “We didn’t-” Len sighed, drumming his fingertips on the flat surface before continuing,”- _fuck._ ”

 

He couldn’t tell whether Lisa believed him. She was squinting at him all suspicious while spreading jam on her last piece of toast. The silence stretched out in between them, making Len seriously consider leaving, but before he could actually reach a decision, his sister spoke up again.

 

“You _like_ him!”

 

“Lisa-”

 

“Oh my god! Lenny, you like a cop!”

 

“He’s not-”

 

“He might as well be!” Lisa interrupted, face a weird mix of excitement and disbelief. When Len directed the sharpest glare he could muster up, she raised up her hands in mock defeat, her huge grin saying otherwise. She stood up all too suddenly, shoving the last of her breakfast in her mouth as she dusted off her hands, waiting a few seconds as she chewed and then gulping down what should have been his cup of coffee in one go. That could not be healthy. “Listen, Lenny, I know you don’t like talking about your _feelings_ ,” She rolled her eyes, “But we _will_ go in depth after I go do a little research-”

 

“No-” Len tried to interrupt, knowing this would probably be borderline breaking the Flash’s rules, but Lisa went on as if he had never spoken.

 

“-and while you go to the Rogues meeting I scheduled!”

 

He paused. Rogues meeting? What? He crossed his arms, waiting for further elaboration. Since when did Lisa care about ‘The Rogues’, and how had she gotten into contact and apparently managed to convince a bunch of criminals to all meet up at the same time?

 

“Yep!” She popped the ‘p’, looking pretty proud of herself. “It’ll be missing a couple of people-” Mardon and Jesse, no doubt, “But they’re expecting you to show up. I know you’ve been toying with the idea of banding your little group together for shenanigans, which obviously, I want in on, so I took the liberty of arranging an opportunity for you to step up! All the info you need is on your phone.” Lisa smirked, waving her hand,”And I mean, I _would_ have just led the whole thing myself, but I think I’ll allow you a bit of fun before overthrowing your rule. Plus, it’s too much work. I’ve got better things to do.” As if demonstrating, she wiggled her fingers, showing off her intricate manicure with black and gold designs.

 

“Speaking of better things to do!” She went on, not giving him any room to interrupt,”I’ve gotta go. Talk to you later, dearest brother!”

 

Len simply had to watch as she walked away, back turned as she waved a hand. She really was a rollercoaster. He picked up his phone from the table, where she must have inputted the ‘info’ during her failed attempt at snooping, finding a saved draft of a text message, clearly written by her.

  
  
‘ _meet up in the safehouse w/ the bar, 9:00 PM sharp. Mick will be there too, along with all the metas we busted out, youre welcome. don’t be late_

_also, im going to go and see your boyfriend for myself ;)_

_xoxo’_

  
  
That headache was coming back strong. Shutting his eyes for a long second, Len thought on his day. Since this so called meeting was at night, that would be enough time to track down Barry and warn him about his sister, before she finds him herself. That would _not_ be good. Finding him should not be too hard, considering he knew his base of operations-S.T.A.R. Labs, with questionable security, considering the ease he had gotten his cold gun with. Taking into account that he wasn’t actually planning on stealing anything, it shouldn’t be too hard to catch Barry’s attention. Baiting him through a small heist was also an option, but he wasn’t in any state to think up of anything that wouldn’t end up as a total failure.

 

  
S.T.A.R. Labs it is.

 

It took him roughly about 10 minutes to gear up, just in case things went south. He had kidnapped two out of the three people in that building, so odds were he wasn’t going to be welcomed with open arms. They would probably be less threatened without his gun, but it wasn’t like he was going to potentially risk his own safety just to make those two feel good. Len wasn’t exactly proud of what he had done, but as always, it was what he had needed to do. Things aren’t always a cakewalk.  
It occurred to him midway to reaching S.T.A.R. Labs that it wasn’t even guaranteed that Barry would be there, considering the kid had a day job to take care of. He’d stop by his workplace, but considering it was filled with cops, he wasn’t too thrilled about the idea. Slowing down at a red stop, his gloved finger tapped lightly against the handle, thinking of his options.

  
Almost like an impulse decision, he made a turn that would lead him to the police station. He knew from experience that even when you’re a widely recognised criminal, it was pretty easy to slip by security with a simple disguise and the right attitude. Besides, as far as the law was concerned, he had no criminal record, and was just a squeaky clean civilian. There wasn’t anything they could do to him.

  
  
This was really turning out to be more trouble than it was worth.  All because of his slip up and Lisa’s persistence.

 

It was no use dwelling on it, though. Speeding through traffic, he made his way to the precinct, arriving with time to spare. It wasn’t even noon just yet. Kid should probably be in, and if he wasn’t, well, he could always leave a message or go for Plan B or C.  
Carefully parking, he took off his helmet, tucking it under his arm as he rummaged through his coat’s pockets. He pulled out a pair of glasses and a black cap he put on. Easy as that. Even with cops crawling all over the place, Len didn’t feel remotely nervous, making his way through the entrance with a seemingly kind smile on his face as he made eye contact with a woman.

  
Everyone seemed to be busying themselves, barely a single person batting an eye as he made his way up the stairs. It really was laughable security, if he wanted to, he could shoot up the place in a matter of seconds. No wonder there had been so many incidents before. Looking to the right, he swiftly made his way towards where he knew a CSI like Barry would spend his time at. He’d gotten a hold of the buildings blueprints before, just in case of emergencies. He hadn’t expected it to come in handy the way it was at the time, but he wasn’t exactly complaining.

  
Len walked through the corridors and was welcomed into the surprisingly large lab space. It was large, sure, but it didn’t exactly look...Up to date. Technologically speaking, there didn’t seem to be a lot of equipment that he would expect would be required. There were several flasks and bottles with what looked like chemicals inside, just sitting on shelves, where they could easily be dropped. His eyes scanned the room carefully, taking note of the unnecessary amount of windows. At least there was guaranteed good lighting.  

 

“Joe, I’m almost done with the-”

 

Upon hearing the voice, Len automatically tipped his cap lower before remembering that he was actually here to talk to the owner of said voice. He calmly turned around, a smirk perfectly in place as he took in Barry’s figure. It was almost amusing watching his expression switch from confusion, to frustration, and to...was that concern? He was most probably worried what people would think if he was seen with a criminal, but it still shook Len.

  
  
But for a guy with super speed, Barry sure was standing frozen there for a long time.

 

“ _Again?_ ” were the choice words that Barry decided to grace him with, sounding absolutely exasperated.

 

“Happy to see you too, Barry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not too sure if I should switch POVs in the future? I want this fic to be Len-centered, but Barry is really fun to write? I feel like that would also give a lot more content.  
> Thanks for reading, though !!! Hope it's enjoyable so far ! Please do correct any typos and such, I'd super appreciate it <3


	4. Too Close for Comfort

Before Len could really even do begin to do anything, a familiar buzz that lasted barely a second took over him, with the unpleasant after effect of amplifying his still there headache. Keeping himself from keeling over and puking was a hard task, but he had practice keeping a straight face in impossible situations. So, instead, he blinked, once, twice, and slowly took in his new surroundings.

  
He was in an a constrictive alleyway, with Barry standing a bit too close, arms crossed and glaring. How cosy. His eyes didn’t seem to have the same heat that they had yesterday, either, so that was reassuring. It led him to the assumption that things had went quite well for him as the Flash, meaning he’d been given the wonderful opportunity to bust Mardon out, which would level out the playing field again. Of course, he could do the same for Jesse, but no use getting ahead of himself. Not like the Trickster was going to be going anywhere anytime soon, and Len had all the time in the world to consider whether he could use James Jesse as an asset for his team.  
At the moment, he had other things occupying his mind. Like the fact that out of all the places he could have been brought to, the Flash chose to have a talk in the alleyway? Really? He recognised it, too, they were still pretty close to the precinct, which was yet another questionable decision.

 

“You’re insane! Do you  _ want _ to get arrested again? You’ve been out for, what, barely a day?”

  
  
Len raised a questioning eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Always the selfless hero, it looks like. He had been expecting a lot more threats, but this was much bet-

  
  
  
“I swear if you don’t explain yourself I’m going to throw you into the pipeline.”

 

  
He supposed that was fair. It really was hot and cold with Barry, though. It was hard to tell whether he was threatened by Captain Cold or forgiving of Leonard Snart. Either option wasn’t one he cared for. 

 

  
“ _ Relax _ . I’m just here to…” Len frowned, averting his gaze as he fixed his coat. “Warn you.”

 

  
Occupying himself with straightening the fabric, he waited for the silence to be broken, but it kept on stretching. He lifted his head up grudgingly, making unfortunate eye contact with Barry who was grinning from ear to ear, a look that spelled out ‘I won’, which successfully managed to get on Len’s nerves. Linking his hands together, he sighed, speaking up before any of those potential boasts and false assumptions got out of the kid’s mouth.

 

  
“Nothing like that.” It was his fault that Lisa had discovered the existence of a Barry Allen, and considering her annoying tenacity, it could lead to some more discoveries on her part. All thanks to Leonard Snart’s blabber mouth. “It’s my sister.”

 

  
Barry seemed to tense at the mention of her, his grin faltering, replaced by a concerned frown. “Is she-”

 

“She’s fine.” Len was quick to reassure, not sure how he felt about Barry’s very real shift in mood, his immediate readiness to help in case something was wrong. They were supposed to be enemies. The kid was way too soft-hearted. Pushing the thought aside, he looked around for something to occupy his hands with, but there wasn’t much available in a deserted alley, so he settled with keeping his arms at his sides, thumb and index finger fiddling together absentmindedly. Coming up with the right words seemed a bit more difficult now that he was forced to do so. “She knows. About you.” He settled, despite knowing he would have to elaborate.

 

Even more confusion washed over Barry’s face, quickly replaced by anger, a betrayed look as he stalked even closer, fist clenching. “You  _ told _ her?” It was obvious that Barry was just about set to kick his ass, or lock him up or whatever superheroes did, so the fact that he actually went to confirm was surprising. Good thing, too, it would have been pretty pathetic if he got his ass beat due to playing with words-Not that he _would_ lose. He did after all still have his cold gun strapped to his thigh, hidden by the long cloth of his coat.

 

“Not exactly.” 

 

Len saw hesitation in Barry’s posture as he stepped back, giving Len more of his much appreciated space. He could feel the tension which he hadn’t even been aware of slipping away from his own shoulders, making it easier for him to tear his focus away from Barry and how ridiculously transparent he was in his emotions. It was clear that he was suspecting Len of something, rightfully so, while preserving the hope that maybe Len didn’t purposefully screw up his deal, which was probably the only reason he hadn’t been tossed in the pipeline, or the meta-human jail. 

 

“She doesn’t know you’re the Scarlet Speedster, but she does know about Barry Allen.” 

 

“What-How?”

 

  
How could he put it in such a way that it didn’t sabotage his pride while actually giving the explanation he owed?

  
  
Might as well just go right out with it.

 

  
“She thinks we’re together.”

 

  
His tone remained a steady drawl, watching Barry closely for his reaction. Maybe he was being too subtle about it, as another lengthy silence followed. He was always better at telling things like they were, but this was a special case.

 

Instead of occupying himself through movement, he focused on observing the extremity which was Barry’s face- who was standing, basically frozen, head tilted to the side slightly as if trying to figure out a particularly tricky puzzle, which in this case, would be Leonard Snart.

 

  
“Together?” Barry drew the word out slowly, repeating it for verification.

 

  
“Fucking.”Len responded.

 

  
Barry’s eyes slowly widened, an interesting rise in the colour of his cheeks as he reeled backwards, blinking profusely. “Wh-” He sputtered, eyes darting from Len’s watchful eyes to the floor and back. The blushing was a nice touch, really made him rethink on how much more appropriate the nickname Scarlet was. It was an oddly refreshing sight.

 

  
“I-How-Uh.” Barry ran a quick hand over his face, steeling himself as he fully turned to face Len, who was full on smirking, incredibly entertained. “Is this some weird way of getting back at me for calling you a bad villain?”

 

  
Cute. “I look like I waste time to you, Scarlet?”

 

At the mention of time, Barry quickly checked the time on his wristwatch, his red face fading all of its colour as if noticing that he was running late to something. 

 

“Oh, no-I’ve gotta meet Iris, I can’t-” 

 

Which apparently he was.

 

Barry’s head darted up, a torn expression on his face. “Look-Can we talk later today? Preferably somewhere else-” Yeah, most of the places the Flash hung out in were obviously not appropriate for his well known enemy to be seen in. Something clicked in the kid’s face just as his hands blurred, lightning crackling briefly at the speed. He took two steps forward, which was just enough for him to be way too close to Len, but Barry didn’t seem to notice.

 

Upon feeling a touch on his lower arm, Snart immediately tensed, narrowing his eyes down at Barry who remained oblivious. A second later, a piece of paper was shoved into the open of his palm, Barry’s hand holding up his own, hot fingers burning on Len’s cooler skin. The abruptness of the action took him off guard, making the sensation much more electrifying than it should have ever had the right to be. He let out a slight huff of breath from his parted lips, not registering the scratchy writing on the piece of paper which he was now grasping, too busy looking at the still there flush of Barry’s cheeks, his wide, panicked eyes and his unsure smile aimed at Len.

 

Len didn’t have the chance to think up of a clever comment, since next thing he knew, there was a breeze, and Barry Allen was gone, leaving him behind. He really needed to stop leaving Len behind all these random locations-at least this time it hadn’t been in the middle of nowhere which. Last time he had ended up surprisingly close to one of his rented warehouses after some searching. But still, it was lucky that he actually _knew_ where he was this time.

 

That was probably the only positive from all of that.

 

He blinked, and looked down at his still raised hand, with the paper in his light grip. Upon closer inspection, it looked like it was a phone number. There wasn’t any additional information, or small notes hidden on the back of the paper. Len checked. Twice.

 

Great. Now he had the Flash’s phone number. Lisa would be _so_ proud.

 

* * *

  
After having found his way back to his ride, Len drove to his favourite place, his technical ‘home’. There wasn’t anything too special about it aside from the fact that it fully belong to Leonard Snart, and no one else. It was where he could freely distance himself from everything, and just exist for a little bit. He never did stay there long, only bothering to go either when he could afford to, or when there was too much weighing on his mind. Less of the latter, though. There was  _always_ something in Leonard Snart's mind.

  
It was a house towards the end of the town, distant from the city noise and people. Compared to the spaciousness most of his safe houses offered, this place was much more reserved. The furniture around were quite plain, but still relatively expensive. After all, Len had the money. Might as well spend it.  
  
It might seem hard to believe, but the first thing Len did after arriving at his place was walking straight into his room, and passing out on the bed. The little sleep he had managed during the night had been ruined through the unwelcome interruption of his sister, along with the usual nightmares, waking him in cold sweat. Thinking back brought on the memory of cold dead eyes, with flashes of images he'd do almost anything to forget.

  
Despite his headache, Len managed to fall asleep relatively fast, at least compared to the usual. He rarely slept full nights, usually settling for  about 4 hours on average so as to not waste time. Today was just one of those days where he was extremely tired and just sick of the world’s shit.

  
  
More specifically, sick of Lisa’s shit.

 

Oh, and the Flash. Hard to forget about him.

 

  
Apparently he hadn’t even managed to drink thoughts of the insistent hero away. The thought made him extremely uncomfortable, but fortunately enough, before he could really reach a proper analysis of what was Wrong with him, sleep managed to overtake him.

  
  


When he woke up, it wasn’t pleasant.

 

Before having gone to bed, Len had drawn the pitch black curtains over his windows, leaving the room coated in darkness, the only reason why he hadn’t fallen had been his familiarity with the setup of the room. So when his eyes snapped open in a flurry, and he saw absolutely _nothing_ , the panic pressing on him grew.

  
The cold sweat sticking to him sent shivers up his spine, reminding him of what he had seen.  
  
  
He closed his eyes, gripping the sheets tightly. It had been of Lisa. Unlike the usual nightmares, in which he fails to save her in some way, this time, it had been her abandoning him. Leaving Len to die as she cursed his existence. It hadn’t just been her, either. The Rogues had been there-and the _Flash_. His eyes had been as cold as Lisa’s, piercing through him, seeing him for what he really was for the first time. Recognising the fact that the good he thought he saw? It had all been wishful thinking, and he’d finally realised the darkness inside of Leonard Snart, and the scum he truly knew he was.  
  
It felt more like a vision of the future than anything else.

 

Once he opened his eyes, his breathing was more steady. Len had been strategically breathing in through his nose, and exhaling through his mouth. Deep breaths meant to calm him. At this point, it was more of a habit than anything.

  
  
Unsteadily, he swooped his legs off the side, landing with a slight wobble, hand darting over to steady himself on the bedside table. After a few steps, he reached the curtains, and with sluggish motions, drew them open. 

 

The light was dimmer than it had been earlier, the skies heavy with gray clouds, but it was still too bright for Len’s eyes. His head turned, eyes catching on the slight movement of his hands. They were shaking.   
Gritting his teeth together, Len clenched both his fists, nails digging into his palms as he laid his forehead against the cool glass of the balcony window. He knew it would be satisfying to punch a solid surface, but he refrained from doing so. Last thing he needed was his hands getting injured.

 

Instead, he ended up taking his second freezing cold shower of the day.   
  
  
Once finished, he hadn't even managed the simple action of toweling off properly. He put on another pair of pants abut didn't bother with a shirt, instead dragging it along with him to the living room, tossing it on the couch for when he went out before sitting on ground, leaning against the side of the couch, facing the door. He had his phone in his hand, his still shaking fingers struggling to press the buttons. The note Barry had written for him was in his other hand, more so as a reminder of what he was doing rather than a reference for the number. It was past 5 PM, and he assumed that the kid could probably spare him a little time so he could break the unpleasant circumstances Lisa had forced upon him-them.

  
The text he sent consisted of the address of his place, with a confirmation that he was there and Barry would be welcomed to come for their  _ talk _ whenever would be suitable for him.

 

Len hadn’t really thought about how he had just given the kid his legitimate address after having sent the message. He stared at the small screen of his burner phone, unblinking, and let out a long breath, pushing himself up from the floor.

 

_ Knock Knock. _

  
His head lifted up, eyes focusing on the door. Well, that was fast. Guess that was to be expected of the flash. Len allowed himself a small smirk as he made his way towards the door, his bare feet leaving a faint trail of wet footsteps behind as water dripped off of him. He had been to distracted to really focus on getting himself try.  
  
 __  
Knock Knock Knock.  


  
Impatient.Without looking through the peephole, Len opened the door, greeted with the sight of Barry Allen, smiling sheepishly at him, looking terribly awkward just standing there. Len shivered at the wind drafting in just slightly, a natural response he tried to suppress. Barry’s eyes seem to very much so notice the response, as his eyes suddenly drifted from his face, going instead to his chest, arms, neck, lingering too long.

 

He tensed at the realisation that,  _ No, you didn’t put on a shirt, genius _ . His whole upper body had tattoos dancing on his skin, the ink different, but all connected in a bigger picture, linked through both intricate and bold lines meshed together. There were some unnatural rises to his skin at certain parts, the places riddled with scars that had been his main motivation to getting inked. His body was covered in them, and tattoos were a great way of distracting himself and subsequently, others, from it.

  
It seemed to be doing wonders for Barry, too. The kid's face was flushed all the way down to his neck, ears the brightest shade of red that made Len’s smirk bigger, the tense lines in his body loosening.

 

  
The kid was straight up gawking at him.

 

  
“You okay there, Red?” His voice came out rougher than expected, definitely due due to him having woken up not too long ago, and not having spoken a word since, and no other reason at all.

 

  
It was hard not to notice Barry’s sharp intake of breath, followed by him clearing his throat and looking away before meeting Len’s eyes again, the redness of his face not having decreased even a little. If anything, it looked like he had gotten redder.

 

  
“Can I-” Barry gestured with a hand behind Len, “Come in?” His voice cracked before he could finish his question, causing him to clear his throat several times as Snart just leisurely stood there, enjoying the spectacle.

 

Instead of a verbal response, he stepped out of the way, holding the door open as Barry scrambled his way in. Len pushed the door, letting it close with a quiet ‘click’, and stepped over to the couch, grabbing his shirt from it and slipping it on in one quick motion.   
When Barry turned around to face him, Snart could swear he saw something akin to disappointment flashing in his expression as his eyes caught the dark blue colour of Len’s long sleeved shirt. It was hard not to notice his lingering gaze on it. The chills that had been sticking to Len’s body seemed to dissipate, an odd warmth replacing it.

 

“So" Barry clapped his hands together, "Do you wanna explain to me how _Captain Cold_ managed to casually mention the Flash's  _real_  name in such a way that it made the Golden Glider think they were screwing?” The tension was broken along with the silence as Barry crossed his arms, staring right at Snart, no hint of the look he had on his face a mere second ago. And had he just referred to himself in the third person?

  
  
“Right.” Len huffed, walking with slow steps towards the back of his couch, fingers trailing over the leather material. He would have taken a seat, but he had a feeling that Barry would much rather stand. “Your name might have accidentally come up during…-" He cleared his throat. "An unfavourable situation.” He tapped his index finger, looking back at his _ guest _ . It was obvious that he would have to be a bit more specific than that, but telling his nemesis that he drunkenly uttered his name was ridiculous, and quite honestly, not happening.

 

“Snart.”

 

Barry’s tone came as a warning, which made Snart smirk. Not like the kid would hurt him, not in these circumstances anyway. In all of their previous encounters, he’d always be retaliating against an action committed by Len, never initiating without being provoked. The kid was no threat to him as of right now.  
  
Still, he had decided that he would be honest. He owed at least that much to Flash. His fingers gripped against the couch as Snart looked down, holding back a groan of frustration. As much as he supposedly  _owed_ it to his enemy, this was still the worst. Walking to the front of the couch, in a terrible tactic to prolong the inevitable, he wondered what exactly he had done had managed to land him in this ridiculous situation.  
  
  
Taking in a deep breath, Len raised his head. Damn it all.

 

  
“I was drunk.”

 

  
The admission weighed a lot more than Len thought it would have. It immediately made him wish that he had resorted to lying instead, especially when he saw the utterly baffled look Barry had on his face. 

 

  
“And you told your sister that we were….?” He trailed off in an uncomfortable silence, the pink returning to his cheeks. 

 

  
“No.” Well, it wasn’t like he really remembered, but he knew himself well enough to answer with certainty. “Don’t remember much, must have mentioned your name.” He drawled, grip releasing on the couch. It wasn’t really a lie. According to Lisa he had said something about his smile, but he wouldn’t utter a word of _that_ even if his life depended on it.

 

  
“Why don’t you just tell her she’s got it all wrong?”

 

  
This was really making Len need a drink. With a tired sigh, he ended up slumping down on the couch, wrist crossed over each other. He raised up his head to look at Barry with a pointed look, waiting.

 

“Uh-”

 

“Sit.”

 

It looked like Barry was considering refusal, looking taken aback by the request that sounded much too like a command. But being the peacekeeper that he was, he ended up sitting all the way on the other corner of the couch, keeping maximum distance between himself and his supposed enemy. Len raised an eyebrow, wondering how and why sitting close next to Len was where the line started, considering all those times he had denounced the concept of personal space in favour of threats.

  
  
“Tried. She doesn’t believe me.” Leaning back further on the couch, he let the back of his head hit the cushions, neck craning as he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. “Said she was gonna track you down. Thought I’d give you the courtesy of a warning.” Since it was pretty much all his fault that she’d found out. But that would just have to be left unspoken.

 

  
Seconds ticked by in which Barry remained silent, causing Len to open up his eyes, shifting his head slightly so as to look to his right to see if he was still even there. Yeah, no, Barry was still sitting in the same spot. It even looked like the kid was looking right at him? Len blinked, and straightened his neck, narrowing his eyes at the kid. The movement seemed to wake him from his odd trance, eyes snapping up to meet his, lips barely parted in an overly distracting way.

  
Len watched Barry’s tongue run over his lips, but forced himself to look away before he could let his mind wander. 

 

  
“I can’t believe Captain Cold’s sister thinks I’m-...Involved with him.”

 

  
The hesitation startled a laugh out of Len, which he quickly muffled down. He caught the surprise over Barry's features before a smug look overtook them. Barry leaned forward, shifting closer to Snart on the couch as he grinned, “You know, Snart, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re warming up to me.”

 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Red.” He smirked, not following through the temptation telling him how good it would be if he moved just a little closer.

 

What the hell was wrong with him?

 

His pleased expression fell away at the realisation, making him pause. There was clearly some attraction between them, Len was willing to admit that much. But he usually chalked that up to the adrenaline from their heated face offs. It was easy to get riled up in the moment, feel chemistry that might not necessarily be there. Except, that logic couldn’t apply to the situation. He had a hangover, had just woken up from a nightmare and had then promptly cold shower. He was as sober as one could be. Wanting whatever he did with Barry-with the Flash was insane, and ridiculous and _way_ too many levels.

 

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, his head darted towards the direction, alert. Len was met with a face much closer than he had remembered it being.

 

“Snart? Snart!”

 

Flinching at the volume, he groaned, hand reaching up to rub at his temples. “ _ What? _ ” His annoyance was evident, voice a quiet hiss.

 

“I was saying how you might as well turn in your criminal card but you zoned out on me. You doing okay?”

  
  
The hand on his shoulder had yet to move away, and the strangest thing was that Len didn’t really mind it all too much. Still, he stood up, forcing the hand to withdraw from him. 

 

“Shouldn’t you be going?” The suggestion was clear as day, Snart not bothering to hide his intent as he stepped besides the coffee table, looking down at where Barry was still seated in front of him.   
  
  
  
Barry smiled. He _ smiled _ at Len without a hint of hesitation, nodding. “Yeah, I’ll see you ‘round, Snart.”

 

“Later, Scarlet.” Len automatically responded, frowning at the openness that was Barry Allen.

 

Without another word, Barry Allen and that pure smile of his was gone with only a blur of colours, leaving Len to contemplate their whole exchange yet again. This was starting to make out a really annoying pattern. 

 

A glance at his watch told him that he might as well start making his way to the meeting point with the Rogues, wouldn’t want Mick to burn down anything due to impatience. He’d done it before. Given, it was an accident, but still, why take the risk, right?  
  
  
Not wasting any more time, and definitely _not_ thinking about that idiotic smile, Snart geared up in a matter of minutes, gun strapped safely to his thigh, wearing the parka and the goggles around his neck. Not exactly subtle, but that wasn’t what you wanted to go for when talking to a bunch of self-absorbed, tactlessly defiant criminals. 

  
Yeah. Len's headache was starting to become a permanent addition.  


 

Great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually really trying to drag this out when really all I wanna do is just throw in at least one kiss scene or something.  
> But no.  
> This is going to be super slow burn, dang it. 
> 
> Thanks for reading !!! Super hope you enjoyed it. Please do correct any typos [I always miss some even after rereading], and feel free to comment !  
> <3


	5. Rogues

After Len parked his bike, he made his way towards the entrance of the safe house. And although he liked to call it a safe house, last time he was there, the place had looked more like a poorly cared for warehouse.  
  
Except, that seemed to be the exact opposite of what it was currently. Len stood in the doorway, blinking. He didn’t remember there being such extravagant furniture and decorations before-and was that a new paintjob? Wow. He was almost certain it was something Lisa had decided to do without consultation, as per usual. Despite the inside of the place having had a complete makeover, from outside, the place had looked pretty abandoned. Guess that meant he couldn’t be mad at Lisa, considering it was still a pretty decent cover, but he couldn’t help but be wary as he closed the door behind himself. Once inside, Len immediately went to scan the now unfamiliar interior, checking every surface and noting down the all differences from when he was last there-which was pretty much everything. Was he even at the right place? Paintings and abstract decorations riddled the place, and really, was it at all necessary for there to be a chandelier? He was going to have a long, _long_ talk with Lisa.

 

Upon walking into what seemed to be the common room, he noticed the extravagant bar, stocked with way too many varied bottles of drinks. He quickly spotted Mick with some sort of flaming beverage placed in front of him. It didn’t look like he was going to drink it anytime soon, too busy admiring the fire in that off putting way of his. It was a much needed familiar sight that eased Len’s nerves.  
Seated on a couch further to the middle of the room was Axel Walker, arms spread out over the back of the couch watching...TV? Len paused, wondering if their safe house had been turned into an entertainment centre in the little time that it had remained unused. He could feel that headache returning just as he noticed what was playing on the screen-Cartoons.

 

Holding back a groan at the sight, he made a quick turn, and sat down on the stool next to Mick.

 

“What’s with the kid?”

 

Mick grudgingly tore his eyes away from the flames coming from the small glass to glance at his partner. He then downed the shot he’d been perfectly content admiring just a second ago.

  
  
What a warm welcome.  
  


  
“Lisa.” was Mick’s one word response as he occupied himself with staring at the next shot in line, which was obviously also on fire.

 

Great. So Lisa had recruited a member without his knowledge. He really was not going to let this pass. He had been graciously rid of Jesse, but now he had to deal with his successor? They both were too chaotic, not worth the effort to control. It was obvious that they wouldn’t last long under Len’s rules, what with their destructive streak and casual disregard for the human life.  
He eyed the drink Mick was staring at, and sighed. Drinking wasn’t a good idea. Wouldn’t want a replay of last night.

  
Footsteps approached the room, making Len look over his shoulder just in time to see Roy Bivolo entering, equipped with his bulky sunglasses.

  
He considered actually giving his attention towards one of the two potential members, but decided not to. There wasn’t any need to waste his energy on convincing them individually on all the perks working with him offered. Those words could be saved until the whole crew was present. Len turned back around and looked at Mick.

   
  
“You hear from her?”  
  


  
After a beat, Mick raised his head slightly higher to respond without tearing his eyes away from the glass. “Said she had some business to attend to.” He grinned. “Somethin’ bout helpin’ her dear brother out. Got it tough, huh?”

   
That sounded about right. He just hoped now that he had warned Barry, the crisis could be averted. The likelihood of that _actually_ being the case was low, but hey, a man could dream. “Could say that.” Len let out an even breath, fingers clasping together as he diverted his attention to the current situation.  
  
It wouldn’t be too hard to convince the gathering of criminals to join him. Considering that they would have bothered to show up to his meeting, it was almost certain that they already had an interest in working with him. Plus, the fact that he had saved their asses from the Flash’s imprisonment meant that they owed him, and were much more likely to listen. The real problem lied in controlling them. Especially with a troublemaker like Walker in the team.

When he turned towards the room once again it was because of the arrival of Shawna Baez, who was standing right in the middle of the room, holding a spyglass in her hand.

   
  
There seemed to be a second in which everyone in the room turned their attention towards her, except Mick, who hadn’t been fazed at all.  
  


  
  
“What? Am I late to the party?” she smirked, shoving the scope in her back pocket.

 

  
It didn’t look like Kyle Nimbus was going to make an appearance, considering he seemed like the highly punctual type, what with his occupation as an assassin and all. It was probably safe to assume Lisa hadn’t contacted him, or he had refused to show up. Most probably for the better. It was pointless to try to discipline some people, and Nimbus fit into that category perfectly.

Taking that into account, everyone expected to arrive was most likely all gathered. Great. Better get it over with, then.

   
  
Len stood up, hand resting slightly above the holstered cold gun on his thigh, just as a reminder of his power. “Just in time.” He took a small, calculated step forward as his eyes ran over the people in the room. At this point, his partner had turned around on his stool, drinks abandoned in favour of listening to Snart.  
 

  
“I’m sure you all know why you’re here.” He began, voice low, but loud enough to be heard across the room. Bivolo, who had been leaning against the wall, seemed more alert, arms uncrossed as he stood stiffly. Even Walker seemed to have enough common sense to shut off the television.  “You’ve all been given the gleaming opportunity to join my crew.” He gestured vaguely with his arm, voice a sardonic drawl. “You’re welcome.”  
 

  
“I don’t see what’s in it for us.” Shawna spoke up, still standing at the same spot where she had arrived.  
  


  
“Let’s see,” Len took another step forward, hand inching away from his weapon. “There’s always the matter of protection.You’re all fugitives and enemies of the city’s beloved hero. Being part of my crew would prevent your asses from being bust _again_.”

 

Bivolo moved closer, scowling, clearly not pleased by what Len had said. “What makes you think we need you to _protect_ us?” He took of his glasses with a quick movement of his hand, clearly threatening to use his powers. “Cause I can handle myself.”

 

“Cool off, pal.” Mick’s voice came from besides Len, powered up gun already at his side. The statement in itself was pretty ironic, seeing as it was coming from the guy nicknamed ‘Heatwave’. Despite his warning, the manic grin on his face betrayed his thoughts on how he would love nothing more than to burn Bivolo’s flesh off. Mick’s striking thirst for blood did nothing to decrease the tension in the room, instead just resulting in unsettling the others more.

  
  
Len raised an arm, holding it in front of Mick’s chest as a sign to back down. His partner grunted, gun lowering as he eased off, clearly aware of Snart’s intentions.

   
  
“Which is why you were locked up in that makeshift prison, I’m sure.” Len hummed, eyebrow raised. Bivolo seemed ready to launch into a fight, so Snart went on, not giving him the opportunity to. “You were all caught by the _Flash_ ,” He said the name with some contempt, which seemed to please his audience. “But that was when you were working alone. He might have a grasp on all of your abilities, but when combined and used efficiently, it’ll be just about impossible for us to lose.”

 

Axel Walker grinned at the notion, perking up on the couch. “That’s right! We gotta teach the Flash a lesson. As much as he seems to think so, It’s not his city to rule.”

 

  
“Plus, you’ll all get a sizable portion of the winnings from heists.” Len added, knowing that the topic of money would easily appeal to him.

 

That seemed to get Bivolo on board, who was back to leaning against the further wall, subsided. Shawna Baez also seemed all for joining the Rogues, especially after Walker’s mention of teaching Flash a lesson. It wasn’t any surprise that they all had personal grudges against the hero, considering they had been kept prisoners in less than favourable environments, which really called Barry and his crew’s moralities into question. Len would really have to ask about that one day.

   
  
“Count me in. When do we start?” Shawna grinned, shifting from one foot to the other, evidently excited at the prospect of beating the Flash.  
  
 

“Now. First order of business will be to break Mark Mardon out of the metahuman prison.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Axel tense. Considering it in his head, it seemed obvious that Mardon would be much more cooperative without the Trickster coming up with his so called diabolical and unnecessarily destructive ploys.  
Breaking him out as well would most likely just cause more trouble than it's worth, but if he could get him under control by recruiting him, then all those potential deaths could be avoided, and Len would profit by having another strong crew member. Of course, that could only happen if he could get Trickster to stop being a crazed lunatic. The thought of it brought on a bad taste, but currently, it seemed to be the most profitable action. He might come to regret his decision in the long run, but he’d deal with it then. There wouldn’t be anything shameful about getting rid of a human stain like Jesse James, in fact, Len would be glad to do the deed once, or if it came down to it.

 

“Along with Jesse James, if we can afford to.” He concluded, looking at Axel as he did.

 

“What do you mean ‘afford to’, you can’t-”

 

Len interrupted Axel with the sound of his gun charging up, which was now held aloft, but not yet aimed. “Can’t what? Kid, I’d be more than happy to let you go if you’re not _pleased_ with my terms.” The dangerous glint in his eyes must have alerted Walker, as he sat back down with only a huff.

 

Moving his finger away from the trigger, he let his gun power down, but still held on to it, just in case anyone got any ideas. “Good.” Len hadn’t even gotten to the actual code just yet. These bunch were going to be a handful.

 

“Now before we get started, there are rules to follow.” He raised up two fingers.”We’re a crew, meanin’ you can’t act by yourself, and you gotta look after your own.” He squinted at Bivolo and Axel. Knowing what he did about Shawna, she was unlikely to be too much of a problem. On the other hand, If either of the other two caused more trouble than they were worth, they’d be out in a heartbeat. Holding up his index finger, he went on. “No killing. If you’ve got a problem-” Raising up his gun to rest against his shoulder, he rested his finger on the trigger, charging it up once again. “Do tell.”

 

As expected, his new crew remained silent, allowing Len to lower his weapon. Great. So far, everything had went according to plan. What followed was the more annoying part-breaking into the prison he’d _just_ been broken out of. It shouldn’t be too hard, he already had a way to establish contact with Mardon. The only concern was Jesse James. He most definitely wasn’t going to let Axel Walker assist in _his_ ‘rescue’, as that was most likely going to lead to way too much destruction and unpredictability. Considering Lisa seemed quite adamant about sticking around until he got her fill of his personal life, Len would get her to help out. Maybe that would help her ease off of his case.

 

Doubtful. But one could hope.

 

Turning around, he allowed himself to look the room over once more. It was way too luxurious, and likely to make his crew loosen up a little too much, as demonstrated by Axel. He’d have to switch to another safe house as soon as possible. But for now, this would have to do.  
He already had the blueprints of the prison, thanks to Mardon lending a hand, and exploiting the weak points shouldn’t be too hard, especially with the diversity of powers his members offered. Considering the Weather Wizard had managed to break in on his own, and then break out with two extra criminals with the same ease one would have when taking a walk in the park, the Rogues’ version of the same feat would most likely be overkill.

Walking over to the other side of the bar, Len pulled out the folded paper from the pocket of his parka, slowly unfolding it as he gestured for his newly established crew to move closer. Mick was back sitting on his place on the stool, palm hovering dangerously close to the fire with his head ducked, but still somehow paying attention. Peek-A-Boo, ever the showman, popped up sitting on the counter just as the Len splayed out the blueprints, hand smoothing it down to the surface. Bivolo and Axel, thankfully,and ironically, just walked up and sat down like normal people.

 

“Listen close. If you don’t follow my instructions and end up sabotaging the whole thing, then we’ll all go down, and it’ll be on _your_ heads. Don’t want that now, do we?”

 

Being tolerant of your crew was one thing, but being too lenient would end up having ugly consequences. As versed as he was in ugliness, Len didn’t enjoy his crew falling apart-which is why he liked to take the proper precautions. The best way to inspire loyalty was through results, which earn respect. Without respect, there’s no chance of anything surviving. Given Captain Cold’s reputation, Len didn’t have to worry too much about earning that, and if in the future, it proved to be an issue, fear always seemed to be more than enough motivation.

The idea of it left a bitter aftertaste, his thought process too reminiscent of the speeches Lewis Snart would give him when he was too small and too stupid to understand what the words truly meant. He knew now that they held an uncomfortable degree of truth in them-fear tended to be the only way to band a group together, to ensure that they followed your rules.

 

When Leonard Snart looked over towards Mick’s direction, he found him staring right back. Unnerved, his shoulders tensed, wondering if his thoughts had been displayed on his face, if Mick somehow knew about how pathetic he sounded in his head. All he got as a response was an overly wide grin and a nod which was oddly encouraging.

  
  
“Count us in, buddy. What’s the plan?”

 

  
Len smirked in response, hands resting at the corners of the blue pages as he leaned forward.

   
  


“Glad you asked, Mick.”

 

* * *

  
Tracking someone was harder than it seemed. Certainly _much_ harder than movies made it out to be. Though movies made anything look fun and simple-yes, including murder. What was considered to be ‘entertaining’ was truly a mystery to Lisa.  
But enough about that. ‘Tracking’ was just a prettier way of saying ‘stalking’. She wasn’t exactly proud of it, but she’d been _tracking_ a particular individual for way too long. A yawn escaped her mouth, barely stifled with a hand as she stretched against the seat in her car. Currently, she was parked outside of S.T.A.R. Labs, after having masterfully tracked down a very special Barry Allen.

  
Her first instinct had been to check the police station, as Len had told her that he worked as a CSI. Unfortunately, her target had not been there when she had arrived, making her resort to asking around.

With just a casual flip of her hair, and a sly smile when speaking to one of the officers, Lisa had easily learned that Barry Allen liked to help out at S.T.A.R. Laboratories. The very place responsible for the particle accelerator explosion, which had successfully wreaked havoc across the city. She would have loved to get the autograph of this Harrison Wells. Really, the whole place was much more suitable for crime, now. A lot more spice added to it, and Lisa _liked_ it spicy.  
But as spicy as she liked it, she hadn’t been about to enter the prestigious labs through the front door. No doubt they had some measure of security despite their spectacular scientific failure, and Lisa wasn’t about to risk getting found out so early. She’d barely learned anything about this CSI.

  
Yawning once more, she pushed the car door open, stepping out to stretch properly. How long had she been sitting in that car? What exactly could he even be doing in there? It must have been hours by now. Sure felt like it.

 

Deciding to get a little closer look, Lisa slammed the door shut, locking it with the button on her keychain as she walked towards the building, watchful. The sun had long set, so whoever was in the place was more likely to be wary of any suspicious activity, but still. It had been too long with nothing to show for her hard work.

 

Just as she approached the back door, it pushed open, a figure holding a glowing object stepping out into view.

  
  
A gun. That most definitely looked like some hi-tech gun. Huh. Straightening up her stance, Lisa didn’t hesitate to step forward, which allowed her to look at said figure more carefully. Wait. She knew that face-

 

  
“Cisco!”

 

  
“Lisa?”

 

The gun slowly lowered just as the overhead lights turned on, making it so that Lisa didn’t have to squint into the darkness any longer.

 

Damn. She’d been way too focused on the specific case of Barry Allen, that she’d completely forgotten about Cisco. Well, truth be told, the idea of using him had crossed her mind before, but it didn’t exactly appeal to her all too much. Wouldn’t want to drag him into more of her personal business. Their last encounter along with the circumstances was still fresh on her mind. Hard to forget something like that. Doubtful she ever would. But the point was that Cisco had done enough, and using him would be selfish.

  
She really should have thought this whole plan through better.

 

“What are you doing here?” Cisco eyed her suspiciously, but despite that, his weapon was completely lowered, a show of foolish trust. God, he was so stupidly naive.  
  
  
  
Lisa had her golden gun tucked in her holster, entirely visible. Yet still, Cisco didn’t seem to consider the idea that she could possibly cause any harm. She was a criminal, for fuck’s sake. It was sort of what she did for a _living_.

   
  
  
Pushing the irrelevant thoughts aside, Lisa slid a hand to her waist, head tilting as she smiled. “What? A girl can’t say hello to her _favourite_ hero?”

 

“Flash is sort of busy-”

 

“Wasn’t talking about the Flash.”

 

Cisco seemed to completely freeze up, cheeks rising in colour as he quickly ducked his face to hide it, clearing his throat. He had been clearly caught off guard, despite her previous flirtations. The innocent reaction was really too amusing. Lisa could never get enough of it.  
  
She smirked, moving in closer.

 

“It’s cold out here. Mind letting me in?”

  
  
Her question must have been worded strangely, because Cisco immediately tensed up, walking forward as his free hand reached out to grip on the rail. “Are you-”

  
“Fine. I’m fine-” Lisa tried not to think too hard about how much this geeky scientist seemed to care about her wellbeing, and why _she_ cared that he cared. She also pushed aside the feelings of guilt from having relied upon him along with the Flash and Dr.Snow. It still didn’t sit right with her, but she could fully say that she didn’t regret her decision to reach out for help. It had saved her, but more importantly, it had also saved Lenny.

  
Even though Lisa didn’t elaborate further, Cisco nodded, features softening as he pulled open the door, holding it for Lisa to enter.

 

“As long as you promise this isn’t some elaborate heist.”

 

Chuckling at the remark, Lisa walked up to the door, pausing when she was right next to Cisco in the cramped space of the doorway. “Oh come on. We know each other better than that, don’t we?” She licked her lips, enjoying the way Cisco seemed to track each of her movement. Deciding to cut him some slack, she moved into the building, thankful for the escape from the strong wind. She hadn’t been joking about it being cold, it had been freezing out there.  
  
Rubbing her hands over her arms in a slow, repetitive movement, Lisa wondered on what exactly a CSI was doing in S.T.A.R. Labs. The cop at the precinct had said something about ‘volunteering’, but that was way too vague. What exactly had Len gotten himself into here?

 

“Wh-That’s not a no!”

 

Lisa smirked, turning her head to look at Cisco. “If I wanted to rob you, Cisco, I would have done it ages ago. Now come on, show me around. Didn’t have the chance to look at this place last time.”

  
Cisco squinted at her all suspicious, before shrugging, clearly deciding that she had some sort of a point, and it would probably be best to listen to her wisdom. As always.  
  
  
Lisa tended to inspire that sort of obedience in people.

 

“Can’t wait to tell Lenny ‘bout this.” She muttered under her breath, hands dropping from her arms as she began walking besides Cisco.

 

“What?”

 

“Hm? Nothing.”

 

“Riiiiight.”

 

Time to meet the boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot? What is that? Never heard of it.  
> I'm trying to make this as Slow Burn as possible, so I haven't been focusing too much on the actual storyline, which is a huge flaw. I'm going to try and whip up some of that soon so it doesn't get too repetitive.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading so far !!! I really appreciate all the kudos and comments left by you guys !!


	6. Smile For Me, Too

The Cortex, as Cisco described it to her, seemed to be the main working space. As Lisa walked in, the first thing her eyes were drawn to was the Flash suit. Last time, she was too distracted by the promise of imminent death to really pay attention to the place, but it was quite the nice space. Her gaze drifted over to the woman she remembered as Caitlin Snow, who was sitting in front of the monitors on the desk, distracted with talking to someone else-that someone else being Barry Allen, CSI, or otherwise known as Lenny’s boy toy.

She continued walking closer, her heels clicking more loudly as she approached. The sound seemed to snap both the CSI’s attention, and Caitlin’s, as they both turned to look at her. Lisa focused on Barry, who was frozen and staring right at her. Interesting. Did he somehow recognise her? Now that Lisa looked carefully, there was actually  something oddly familiar about his face-

 

“Is that-” Caitlin’s high pitched, cut off exclamation drew Lisa’s attention to her, earning a smirk.  
  
  
  
“The one and only.”

 

“Uhhhh-” 

 

That was lover boy. She zeroed in on him, steps slowing down until she stopped right in front Barry Allen. Putting her hands on her hips, she circled him, head tilted. “You seem familiar…”

 

“What?” Barry squeaked, clearly alarmed. Lisa watched him look over to Cisco as if asking for help, who had been looking strangely entertained before that point.

 

“Yeah," He waved his hands around, nodding, "he was in that bar with me, remember? When your brother  _ kidnapped _ me?” Cisco reminded her oh so sweetly, with a slight nervous edge to his voice.

 

Oh, right! She  _ did _ have a vague recollection of someone sitting along with Cisco. So they were close friends, then? It felt like Lenny was leaving out some crucial information. Was lover boy also involved with the Flash? He was, after all, having a casual conversation where Flash’s suit was stored, seemingly completely unaffected. Well, before Lisa marched in, anyways. Maybe he was just nervous naturally.

Now that she knew the reason he seemed so familiar, she did a once over of him, arms crossed. He was young. A bit too young, at least for Lenny’s tastes. Guess the old man had a change of heart. Who could blame him, especially when the ‘kid’ in question had a face like that? Lisa smirked to herself as she pulled out her phone from her pocket and began typing up a quick text. She briefly considered taking a picture, but then remembered that Lenny was insistent on solely using outdated burner phones. It was way too inconvenient. Next order of business would be to get him a smartphone.

  
When she raised up her head, she saw Cisco and Caitlin having an aggressively hushed conversation , which Caitlin seemed to be dominating. Oh, they were now loudly whispering. Things were sure getting heated on that end.  
  
  
Letting the two have their argument, or whatever it was supposed to be, Lisa stepped besides Barry. “So, Barry Allen.”

 

“Uh, yep. That’s me. Hey. Hi.” He muttered awkwardly, hand going up to brush the back of his neck- an incredibly obvious presentation of his nervous tick. Barry seemed to notice his bad habit, as he quicklu shoved his hands in his pockets, putting on a smile that did nothing to conceal his awkwardness. “And you’re Lisa Snart, Captain Cold’s ‘evil hot sister’-at least according to Cisco.”

 

“Hey, man! I told you that in  _ confidence _ .” Cisco shouted over, before being dragged back into his conversation with Caitlin. Lisa caught some of the phrases, such as ‘Is she okay?’,’Secret identity’ and ’Last time this happened...’, but that was about it. She sure was glad she wasn’t part of  _ that _ conversation. 

 

“As it so happens, I’ve heard about you too. What a coincidence.”

 

“Huh-really? That’s-" He laughed, eyes darting around the room, avoiding eye contact, "weird.”

 

Wow. This guy was  _ bad _ at lying. Like, incredibly bad. He didn’t look like he could deceive someone  _ or _ keep a secret to save his life. Total opposite of Len. “Ye _ p _ .” Lisa smirked. “Wanna ask me for my source?”

 

Barry squinted at her, hand withdrawing from his pocket to scratch at his head. “That feels like a trick question. Can I opt out?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“O- _ kay  _ then. Who, um, who told you about me?”

 

“I’m so glad you asked! My dearest brother Lenny did. Heard of him? Sure you have. Captain Cold!” Lisa was practically bouncing on her feet, incredibly curious on what what Barry Allen’s opinion on his criminal brother was. “He’s said some  _ great _ things about you.” She teased, leaning in to whisper, “like about your innocent, adorable smile.” Lisa grinned impossibly wider, leaning back to examine the effects-which were way better than expected. Pretty much the entirety of Barry’s face was covered in the colour red.

 

“Wh-What?” Barry straightened up, his shoulders squaring as he looked away from observing Caitlin and Cisco, who seemed to be somewhere in between working and still somehow arguing, to stare at Lisa in disbelief, embarrassment evident on his face. “Why would Snart-I mean, Cold-Captain Cold, that is- say? that? It’s, uh. What?”

 

Lisa huffed out a laugh, moving a hand to cover her mouth, trying not to burst out in laughter. He was so transparent and blindingly pure. How did Len get his hands on someone like that? There had to be something Lisa was missing. Because so far, it looked like Barry Allen knew all about Lenny’s side job as a super criminal, yet still seemed to express interest in him. Realistically speaking, there was no way Len would want something purely good for him, in the way that she imagined Barry would be good for him. So really, what was it that she was missing? “Relax loverboy, I know all about you and my brother’s” she leaned in once again, eyebrows waggling, " _ relationship. _ ”

 

In response, Barry just straight up started choking, keeled over as he tried to get himself back together.

 

This was too good. Lisa’s face hurt from grinning too wide. Sadly, the joyous occasion was cut short when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Reflexively, she flinched away, head darting towards the source in surprise, landing on Caitlin’s gentle face, concern apparent.  
Willing her racing heart to calm down, she reminded herself that there wasn’t anything to be scared of. Lisa pushed down the shame bubbling up inside of her at having such a reaction to a harmless stimulus, and instead, focused on the face in front of her.

 

“Are you okay?” Caitlin’s voice was soft, as if sharing a secret. Lisa was thankful for that. Feeling her pulse calm down, she nodded. “If you need anything…”

 

“No, It’s okay, I’m fine.” Lisa waved off the question without a second thought, forcing a smile. “Sorry to drop in and kill the party. I’ve gotta get going anyways.”

 

The room was much more silent now, which only intensified Lisa’s desire to leave. Things were getting the bad kind of awkward. It wasn’t any surprise, considering the last time she was in S.T.A.R. Labs was because of...Well, it hadn’t been for a party, that’s for sure.

Lisa clapped her hands together, stepping towards the exit, a somewhat more natural smile on her face. “Won’t be the last you’ll see of me, though. Especially you, Barry Allen.” She winked, then blew a vague kiss towards direction of Cisco and Caitlin.

 

She took a few more steps forward, then stopped. Lisa turned back around, eyes locked on to Barry as she slipped the phone out of her pocket, grinning. “Actually, there  _ is _ something you could do…”

* * *

 

Turns out banding his little group of criminals had been easier than expected. Aside from the occasional object catching on fire, everything had been under control. Bivolo hadn’t freaked out and thankfully didn’t use his abilities, and Axel had been quite tame throughout. At least compared to the riot that Len imagined Jesse would have been. It gave him the hope that Axel wasn’t the raging psychopath his predecessor seemed to be, which was more than good. He had no need for the uncontrollable in his team. Peek-A-Boo, or Shawna, as he had taken to calling her over the course night, had been quite civil and generally easy to work with.  
Considering the Rogues consisted of a crew of meta humans, they didn’t need to acquire any equipment. Breaking into a high security prison was much simpler task than one would think. At least with the Rogues involved.  


  
Len brought up his watch to check the time, squinting. It was well past night time now. In fact, it was morning. 

 

Currently, Len was in Saints and Sinners, sitting at his usual booth with breakfast in front of him in the form of waffles. So far he’d taken about two bites. It was delicious, but his stomach didn’t seem to be agreeing with him. Maybe because he’d completely skipped eating yesterday. Yeah. He was reaping the repercussions now. The waffles were going to be finished even if Len had to sit for hours. That was the least he could do for his stomach.

Lazily stabbing the food with a fork, Len felt a buzz in his pocket, a welcome distraction from his annoying task. As he took another delicious bite, he pulled out his phone, staring at the dim screen. Looks like he had missed Lisa messaging him. Several times, in fact. Lovely.

 

_ 1:08 AM:Unknown Number: found your lover boy in S.T.A.R. Labs. _

_ 1:08 AM:Unknown Number: he volunteers.  _

_ 2:24 AM:Unknown Number: he’s cute, Lenny !! _

_ 2:25 AM:Unknown Number: can we keep him? _

 

_ 9:35 AM:Unknown Number: Where are you? _

 

Holding the phone in his left hand, he slowly typed out a reply, using his other hand to pour more maple syrup on the plate. By the time he pressed send, there was someone slipping into the seat in front of him. Cutting the corner of his breakfast, he stabbed the piece generously coated in syrup, and stuffed it in his mouth before looking up.

 

Well. That was unexpected.

 

He raised an eyebrow, cutting another piece for himself as he stared at the person seated in front of him.

 

Hartley Rathaway.  Snart knew quite a bit about him, had considered him to become part of the Rogues. But the kid just didn’t fit the mold quite right. He was out on a vendetta, driven by his parental issues, but more so by Harrison Wells. Way too emotional for his liking. Yeah. Len liked to be thorough in his research. As far as he gathered, the creepy scientist Wells was dead, and yet here was Rathaway, sitting in front of the known criminal Captain Cold who was really just trying to eat his breakfast and not starve to death.

 

“Leonard Snart. Or should I call you Captain Cold?” Even the kid’s voice sounded smug. But it was way too see through, too obvious that it was all false bravado. He was trying to impress Len. Interesting. “I hear you’re building a crew.”

 

Len licked his lips, setting his fork down for a second as he leaned forward, appearing relaxed. “What’s it to you?”

 

“I want in.”

 

Well that had been predictable, and frankly, a little disappointing. Snart hadn’t exactly been trying to be subtle about his new crew, but it was a wonder how a vagabond rich kid like Rathaway found out. Well-former rich kid, considering the strain in his familiar relationships.   
Letting the seconds tick by, Len watched as Rathaway became more anxious, leg bobbing up and down under the table, hands clutched together over the table. He seemed to have a determined gaze, which was good, but Len wasn’t going to take in every strong willed orphan that came knocking.

 

“Right.” He drawled, looking back down on his plate. “Get in line.” The hypothetical waiting line. No one was actually pushing and shoving to get into his crew-not yet, anyway.

 

Hartley scoffed, hands withdrawing from the table as he scooted forward on his seat. “Let’s say I’ve got a special skillset you wouldn’t want to miss out on.”

 

If bravado fails you, fear not, just resort to more bravado instead. That was what Hartley’s life motto seemed to be at the moment. Clearly skeptical, Len raised a brow and tilted his head. “That so?”

 

“Like that cold gun you’ve got. I can make it  _ hundred _ times better.”

 

He looked like he had meant that one. But Len had it covered on that ground. At this point, he was pretty sure he knew his gun better than its creator did.  Sensing that Snart had remained unimpressed, Hartley went on, “Plus, I know where the Flash’s base of operations is.”

 

“So do I. S.T.A.R. Labs.”

 

Maybe he should cut the poor Pied Piper some slack. But truth to be told, his reactions were quite amusing. He looked absolutely stricken at the revelation that yeah, Captain Cold had knowledge on stuff. What a surprise, huh?

 

“Well I used to work there so I know their setup. I can sabotage the Flash, exploit the suit’s weaknesses. I could also provide you and your crew with hi-tech equipment.”

 

Len allowed himself to smirk as he occupied himself with finishing his breakfast. Rathaway sure was trying hard. He could at least appreciate that.

 

“You’ve seen my sonic gloves, right? I’d be helpful in heists, too.” He was rambling at this point, just listing reasons as to why he’d be an asset. It made Len’s deliberation process easier, sure, but it also made him look desperate.

  
Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Desperation means less likely to go against Snart and his rules. Still, wouldn’t want to make this too easy. Being the asshole that he was, Len remained silent, staring at Hartley as he ate his food. Each second that passed by seemed to be making Hartley more uncomfortable. The kid was practically vibrating in his seat-and was that a hint of red Len was seeing on his cheeks? The image reminded him of someone else, a someone which Len was  _not_ going to think about.

 

Hartley's saving grace was not Len deciding to have mercy on him, but instead, it was his sister shoving her way into the booth besides him, resulting in making the kid even more uncomfortable, a wary look taking over his face as he shifted further away from the demon in disguise.

 

“Well what do we have here?” Lisa hummed, arm thrown around the back of the seat where Hartley was sat, trapping him even further. “A new toy? What happened to lover boy?” She looked expectantly at Len as her hands reached over and stole his half-eaten plate of waffles, taking his fork and knife with.

 

Len didn’t bother on trying to defend his only source of sustenance. He had long ago learned that when Lisa wanted to eat your food, she’d eat it. The struggle he’d have to go through was not worth earning the plate back. Not even a little. “Rathaway here wants in on the Rogues.” He leaned back on cushioned seats, ignoring the other unnecessary ‘question’.

 

“That so?” Lisa retracted her arm in favour of cutting up Len’s waffles, her feet bumping against his under the table. Len kept glaring at her, pulling his legs away.

 

Clearly incredibly uncomfortable, Hartley averted his gaze, frown deepening as he adjusted his glasses. “Would you mind not sitting so close?”

 

Straight to the point, then.

 

Lisa, clearly peeved, loudly dropped her utensils on the plate. “Aw, is little Hartley shy?” She teased, moving in even closer.

  
Len observed Hartley’s shoulders snap up in defense, his head whipping around to meet Lisa’s gaze with a hard look of his own. Realising this would not lead to good things, Len leaned forward, pulling out a pen from his pocket and scratching down a quick address on a napkin. “Tell you what, come to this address at 8 PM sharp tonight and I’ll see about a spot on the team.” Len pushed the napkin across the table, then leaned back again.

 

That seemed to surprise Rathaway, whose eyes had widened just a little as he looked at Len. He seemed tempted to throw a victory punch, but instead, just reached over and pocketed the tissue. He then turned to look at Lisa, who grudgingly slipped out of her seat to make way for Hartley to leave. Taking the opportunity while he still had it, Hartley stepped out and distanced himself from Lisa. Before leaving, he looked over at Len, and nodded, a smirk playing at his lips. “See you then, Captain Cold.” 

 

Now he had one more potential member to make future crime-doings easier. He doubted the Flash was going to be expecting it. The Flash. Most of the Rogues hated him, considering a good portion of them had been basically unlawfully imprisoned by him. His rule was no killing, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t main him. But that wouldn’t really be anything new, considering the amount of times Snart had been responsible for wounding the Flash. Somehow he always managed to bounce back, though. That was what made it so much fun. Absentmindedly tapping his fingers against his knee, Len thought on how much  _ more _ fun it would be if the kid dropped his glorified sense of duty and joined his crew. That really would open up so many possibilities.

 

“That look! Lenny, are you daydreaming about lover boy?”

 

Look? What look? Len frowned, looking over at his sister with an entirely unimpressed look. “I don’t daydream, sis.” But that reminded him of her earlier texts-about Barry.

 

“Lisa. What did you do?” His voice was a warning, tensing up at the countless possibilities. She didn’t look mad, which was good. Maybe. It at least told him that she hadn’t somehow figured out the fact that Barry Allen was the Flash. Probably. It was sort of hard to tell what was going on in Lisa’s wreck of a mind. She was way too chaotic for him to get a proper read on. Which is why he resorted to interrogating her most of the time. Better to just hear it straight from the source.

 

Lisa scoffed, hand reaching up to rest at her chest, as if offended by the accusation. “What did  _ I _ do?" She waved around her fork, narrowing her eyes "What were  _ you _ doing, Lenny? Were you flirting with the Pied Piper?”

 

Classic. Trying to turn the tables around to suit herself. Versed in Lisa’s diversion techniques, Len completely ignored her. “ _ Barry _ .” He hissed, glaring. He wasn’t up for tiptoeing around the topic. If his enemy got some sort of intel about him due to Lisa’s blabber mouth, he’d probably have to resort to changing his identity.

 

“Ooohh. You meant about lover boy. Gee, should have just said so! He and I had a _ fantastic _ talk. Which reminds me-” She pulled out something from her pocket and slid the item over to Len over the table.

 

It was a phone. An iPhone. Len reached over and picked it up, turning it around so as to inspect it. “You  _ stole _ Barry’s phone?”

 

“What? No. No. I can see why you’d make that connection, but no. That’s for you!”

 

Carefully, he placed the phone back on the table, and leaned backwards, cautious. “What do you want?”

 

“Can’t a sister just do something nice for her only brother?”

 

“No.”

 

“You have a point. Okay.” Lisa took the last bite of his breakfast, and set the fork back down. “The thing is.” She looked around the table, and reached over to steal Len’s glass of water, chugging t it all in one go. It was official. It was impossible for Leonard Snart to have a peaceful time just for himself. Ever. “I want you to go on a date with Barry.”

 

Of course.

 

Why was he not surprised? 

 

“And  _ why _   would I do that?”

 

Looking absolutely prepared for his question, Lisa crossed her arms, an overly self-satisfied grin on her face. “Because, dear brother, if you don’t-” She leaned closer, “I’m going to dedicate my entire life to your nonexistent love life. You’re basically a corpse, Lenny, you can’t bypass this golden opportunity. Plus, Barry is cute  _ and _ nice! A rare combination.”

 

Those were both absolutely terrible scenarios. There was no winning with Lisa. There never was.

 

“I put his number in there.” She wiggled her finger over to the facedown phone. “Along with mine.”

 

Of. Course.

 

“How’d you even get his number?”

 

“Oh you know me.” Lisa winked in that irritating way that others somehow considered charming. Truly a mystery of life. She hadn’t even answered the damn question. “Call him.” She got up from her seat, fingernails still tapping on the edge of the table as she stared Len down.

 

“I’ll consider it, if you show up to the Rogues meeting tonight.” Might as well get something good out of this cursed conversation.

 

“Done! Can’t wait to hear about your gross love adventure then.” Giving him a quick salute, she turned to leave. “Call him!”

 

Taking in a deep breath through his nose, Len considered leaving town. Steadily breathing out, he lowered his head down to his open palms. If only Lisa knew that the person she was putting so much effort into setting him up with was their supposed nemesis, the Flash. Just the thought of her reaction to potentially finding out made him crack a tiny smile. Sadly, Len was just too honest for his own good. Wouldn’t ever  _ dream _ of betraying anyone.

  
Yeah, right.  
  


Still, he wasn’t about to ruin a good deal for the sole reason of getting the upper hand on his nosy sister. Len lifted up his head with some effort, moving to grab the phone that Lisa had supposedly  _ not _ stolen. He switched it on and stared at the lit up screen, the wallpaper making him pause.

It was of Barry, giving an awkward wave to the camera. The blush on his face went all the way from his cheeks down to his neck, hidden by the collar of his shirt. He was looking straight at the camera, no doubt somehow coerced to by Lisa, wearing his usual bright smile despite how odd the circumstances must have been. 

 

Len stared at the picture until the screen went black.

  
When he unlocked the phone, he found yet another picture of Barry as the background, the blush still bright on his cheeks, this time looking away, laughing towards something the camera hadn’t captured. Len’s breath hitched at the sight, his grip on the phone tightening. 

 

Shit.

 

Len was so fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, legitimate plot things will happen eventually!! Let's all just have fun while we can.  
> Thanks again for all the kudos + comments you guys leave!!! It really amazes me whenever I get them. I'm super thankful for you guys that keep reading !!  
> As always, I'd appreciate any typos/mistakes pointed out, along with your potential inputs !!   
> [P.S The chapter title is inspired by what Len's inner inner thought process is at that final scene !]


	7. You and Me Both

Keeping himself out of trouble was always something Len couldn’t manage to do. Mostly because it tended to seek him out whenever it could, as was the case this time. In this particular scenario, trouble presented itself in the shape of Barry Allen, loitering around the front of his door.

 

Len had previously decided to take some time off for himself. The interaction with Lisa had only strengthened said desire, so right after, he drove to the store close by his place, and got groceries. He was currently holding four bags filled to the brim with various foods and supplies, standing a few steps away from his door, and just staring. It had been part of his plan to cook a meal for himself after cleaning up his place, which by the way, was in dire need of one seeing as he hadn’t been able to clean it for months now, and after that and a possible nap. He also needed to work some more on his future heist, which was to take place after the Rogues broke Mardon out of jail.   
  
All those plans hardly seemed relevant at the moment.

 

“Oh, Snart!” Barry seemed to finally notice the very stiff looking Len, awkwardly standing at the spot where he had noticed his unwelcome visitor in front of his door. After a bit of pointless shuffling about, Barry stepped forward and looked down at the shopping bags. “Let me help you with that-” Instead of refusing as he normally would, Len allowed him to take two of the bags from him. Only because having a free hand would make it easier for him to unlock his door. So really, all he was doing was just taking advantage of Barry. Nothing unusual.

  
Not addressing his guest(?) directly, he walked over to his door and unlocked it, pushing it open with his foot. Not locking up behind him, Len just made his way directly over to the kitchen, frowning to himself. This was highly unexpected. Didn’t the Flash have more important things to do? Like put out burning buildings or something? It didn’t make sense that he would visit his supposed-to-be enemy with what looked to be good intentions. Why visit at all? Len had given him his phone number, he could have just-  
  
  
Oh.  
  


The burner phone. The _disposable_ one that he had  _ disposed _ of after making a few calls involving breaking Mark Mardon out. He had completely forgotten that it had been the only way that Barry could contact him. Maybe something had happened that? Well, according to the phone that Lisa had gifted him, yes, a lot had happened, but Len doubted that it warranted a _personal visit_ from Flash.   
  
His hands occupied themselves with carefully emptying the bags, sectioning all that he had bought into categories before putting them away in cupboards and whatnot. Considering he had made it so each bag contained items of the same category, his process was made a lot easier. Currently, Len was counting the fruits and vegetables under his breath, calculating how long they would be fresh for, and what they would be used for, while thinking of possible new houses to invest in. No matter how he thought about it, the Flash knowing where he lived couldn’t be good.  Well , he didn’t necessarily live there at all times, but it was his favourite place, so it was at least inconvenient.

 

He briefly noted that Barry had closed the door behind him, and had set down what he had been carrying on the kitchen counter to Len’s left. He was being oddly quiet, too. Len brought an apple up to eye level and spun it around as he thought of whether he should prompt Barry to speak, or just wait.

  
Might as well wait. It gave him more time to think. Like about the phone weighing in his pocket, and the pictures stored in it. Len walked over to the fridge, and opened it up. Empty. How typical.  
After he had inspected the phone a little further, he found the two set as his wallpapers hadn’t been the only pictures Lisa had taken. In fact, he had been subjected to scrolling through a lot of unnecessary pictures. It started off with selfies that Lisa had taken at S.T.A.R. Labs with Cisco, Caitlin and Barry, then a group picture, and then it branched off to more pictures of just Barry. In most of them, he didn’t even seem to be aware that he was getting his picture taken, which made the whole thing a lot more weird for Len. Actually, everything about what Lisa had done was baffling. How in the world had she convinced them to take pictures with her? But more importantly, _why_?

 

“Should-” Barry’s voice cracked, startling Len out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat before trying again,”Should I come back later?”

 

A quick check of the time showed Len that it had taken Barry roughly seven minutes and twenty seven seconds to speak after entering through the door. Len had already finished placing all the fruits and vegetables in their appropriate spots, and was now placing cooking ingredients in shelves and cupboards.   
  
Well, better late than never.  
  
  
After finishing off organising his cupboard, Len closed it, and turned around to face Barry, hands gripping the counter behind him. “Why are you here, Barry?”

 

Just one look at the kid told him that something wasn’t quite right. He was filled with nervous energy, finger tapping repeatedly on his upper arm, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip in a distracting manner as his foot bounced up and down. Still, he seemed to be making some sort of effort to stay still, as he wasn’t pacing back and forth. At this point, it would be safe to say that Barry Allen was not very good at keeping idle.  
  
  
Barry clasped his hands together for a second, then ran both his hands through his hair, head tilting down to stare at the kitchen tiles as he groaned. “It’s about your sister.” He paused, and looked over at Len to see if he had anything to say about that, to which Len just stared, awaiting a continuation. “She-Well, she sort of dropped in on S.T.A.R. Labs while I was there,” and true to his nature, Barry started pacing. “I think she knows I’m the Flash.”

 

“Pretty sure she recognised me. Cisco covered it up but I’m not sure if she’s convinced? I mean, why was she even there?” He frowned, gesturing aimlessly in a state of glaring distress.. “She took pictures. Of me. Oh god, what if she sells them to some criminals and tells them it’s the Flash?”

 

Len tilted his head, holding back a smirk. “You let her take pictures of you?”

 

Barry stopped pacing, and looked at Len. “Well, when you say it like that…” Clasping his hands together once again, he raised them over his head, resuming his walking back and forth.   
  
“It didn’t seem like such a bad idea at the time. It was sort of complicated. Thinking back, though? Not my brightest moment. I messed up. What if they go after my family, and friends? It won’t be hard to track me down with such a clear shot of my face, all you need is a name, one google search and then that’s it! I need to get plastic surgery-and a name change! Both. Just to be safe. Do you think plastic surgery hurts? I know they use sedatives and stuff, but they’re still going to be cutting up your face, you know? Oh man, how much money do you need to get one of those? I don’t have the cash, I’m broke! I’m so dead. Crap.” Barry crouched down on the floor, hands clutching at his head as he muttered on about how maybe he would have to resort to identity theft, but he wasn’t a criminal so bla bla bla. Wow. The kid sure could talk.

 

Honestly, he had been expecting a lot more of being blamed, considering Lisa was his sister, and the only reason she knew about Barry was because of him. But currently he seemed to be too occupied with all the self blame thing that heroes had going for them.   
  
“Calm down,” he sighed,  “I agree that you probably shouldn’t have let my criminal sister take pictures of you, but she’s not going to do any of that.”

 

Barry’s head shot up, still  _ very _ frantic. “You don’t know that. She could have handed the pictures out already! I could be in the process of being hunted down as we speak-I need to do something.” With that, he stood up, looking about ready to speed off to who knows where.

 

Len held out a hand, indicating Barry should calm the fuck down, and took a deep breath.Things just kept getting better and better for him, huh? Someone up there really must like to see him make a fool of himself. What he really needed was the nap of the century. Instead, he had to go through  _ this _ . Len pulled out the phone from his pocket, and held it up, “They’re in here.”

 

Barry raised his eyebrows, and tilted his head.

 

“What?”

 

“The pictures,” Len muttered, thumb hovering over the home button, but not quite pressing it. “Lisa gave me the phone this morning. They’re full of the photos she took. Said it was a gift.” More like a thinly veiled threat.

 

The explanation seemed to confuse Barry even more, as he crossed his arms and squinted at Len. 

  
Someone please put Len out of his misery.  
  
  
Something seemed to finally click, because Barry's head suddenly snapped upwards, opening his mouth to take in a breath as he did some sort of a vague gesturing motion, dragging the words out awkwardly. “Oh, right! Because she thinks…”

 

In actuality, Lisa could very well still be aware of Barry’s superhero self, but an analysis of her earlier behaviour and ongoing persistence of setting him up with Barry said otherwise. After all, why encourage your criminal brother to hook up with your superhero enemy? Not a lot of sense in that.

 

“That’s not the only thing.” Len set his phone down, and made his way back to sorting out the rest of the stuff, which were mainly cleaning supplies. “She wants us to go on a date.”

 

After a beat, he heard a strained laugh from Barry, followed with another pause in his needless pacing. 

 

“Glad to see one of us is having a laugh.” He turned back around, crossing his arms and infinitely resisting the urge to smile. In retrospect, he imagined the whole situation would be amusing to an outsider, but as someone who was directly involved, he wasn't having that much fun. Okay, maybe seeing Barry squirm was a little bit of fun. Just a little.   
  
Lisa’s so called threat was still fresh in his mind, and thinking back on it now, there wasn’t a chance in hell he could ask the Flash out on a date.   
Len moved over to his electric stove, and turned it on. He had a couple of eggs laid out along with cheese and a variety of spices in preparation of making a cheese omelette. Besides, even if he did get to the asking part, Barry had no reason to accept. It wasn’t like Lisa was going to make _ his _ life a living hell. Although, she might try.

 

“Try to keep as far away from Lisa as possible. She’s clever. Sooner or later, she’ll notice we’re hiding something. I’ll  _ try _ to get her off my case, but I’m not promising results.” 

 

Agreeing to the whole date idea had not been one of Len’s greatest moves. At all. As much as he would love to just skip out on the whole thing, he doubted it would bode well for his future. After beating the eggs the proper amount, he poured it on the pan, letting it fry for a little before adding the cheese and sprinkling in the other ingredients.   
  


“This is weird.” Barry joked. For some reason, he was standing over Len’s shoulder, watching him cook. The tension growing in Len’s bones must have been obvious, because Barry moved back the next second, allowing him his space. Really, what was with the kid and invading his bubble? Were all heroes so touchy? “Can’t believe Captain Cold can cook.”

 

Out of all the things that had been happening, somehow Len being able to cook was the weirdest thing? Those were some really messed up standards for what could be considered ‘weird’, but taking into account Barry's whole life story, and occupation as a superhero, somehow it wasn't too surprising.

Deciding to play along, Len allowed himself a chuckle as he grinded the spices onto the still cooking omelette. “Wait till you taste it, kid.”

 

When he looked over to see what Barry’s reaction would be, he saw a baffled expression. “I get to  _ taste _ it? Wait, are you trying to poison me? I’m onto you, Snart.” Looks like Len wasn’t the only one with a taste for the dramatics, what with Barry looking at him all suspicious-like. Really, Len had just been trying to joke a little, but his old-man humour (according to Lisa) must have went right over the kid’s head. That’s what he got for trying.  
  
His initial response to such a question would have been to state how if he really wanted the Flash dead, then he would already be in the ground. But such a statement was likely to dig out the negativity they held for each other, which would result to strain their already odd relationship and cause even more lasting awkwardness. So, instead, Len continued to quip. “Damn. There goes my master plan to assassinate you. Turns out you  _ do _ know me after all,” he said with some added amazement for effect, his voice slipping into a drawl.

 

“Oh now I  _ have _ to try it, just to prove you wrong.”

 

Yet _another_ unexpected reaction. Len reached up into one of the higher cupboards, and pulled out a plate, with a fork and a knife from one of the kitchen drawers. By the time he laid it out on the counter, the omelette was ready, and he had turned the stove off.   
  
After placing the food on the plate, he turned around to face Barry with a bemused look, arms crossing as if faced with a challenge. “And what exactly would you be proving me wrong about?”

 

“Come on,” Barry raised up his arms, thinking the answer obvious. “I know you’re actually a good guy, Snart. I also somehow doubt you’d go for the poison route.”

 

Okay, well, this was just unfair. If Len had known he’d be faced with such an opportunity, maybe he  _ would _ have stocked up on some poison. Sorry if he hadn’t been able to predict that he’d have the Flash hanging around in his  _ secret _ house.   
He pushed the plate towards Barry with a barely there sigh, who immediately took it and sat down where the utensils had been placed. Len watched his uninvited visitor cut a piece of the omelette, and take a bite without any hesitation. He had a feeling it wouldn't be too difficult to assassinate the Flash.

 

“ _ Holy- _ What?!” Sputtering, Barry cut a way bigger piece and shoved it in his mouth, his eyes bugging out as he looked over at Len. “ _ You _ made this?” he asked in absolute awe, all the while continuing to eat more and more.

 

There were many things wrong with what was happening. First off, the Flash was about to finish _Len’s_ food- which was just a terrible replay of his morning, and it all felt very mocking-and second, the kid had literally watched him make it. Was that a serious question?   
  
Unsure if he should grace such a nonsense question with an answer, Len just raised a questioning eyebrow, not even attempting to stop his meal from being devoured.

 

Watching the way Barry ate suggested that maybe the kid was hungrier than even Len. He was just wolfing the whole thing down. The only thing he was short of doing was using his speed- _ and _ there he goes. By the time Len's eyes adjusted, the plate was empty, and Barry was still somehow chewing. He also heard something that may or may not have been a moan came out of Barry as he tipped his head back, eyes closed as if in complete bliss.   
Len’s lips parted at the display, stunning him for a second. Christ, if it was anyone else giving him this kind of trouble, he’d have had them up against a wall ages ago. Then the whole thing would have been resolved and he wouldn’t have been reduced to  _ longing _ . Maybe his problem was that he was just frustrated in general. A problem that had nothing to do with a certain Barry whose favourite pastime was dressing up in red leather. Yeah, that absolutely made sense. All Len really needed to do was hit some bar up and have a good night.

  
Barry looked towards him, and Len quickly shut his mouth, hand reaching back to grip on the counter once again. “I haven’t had home-cooked stuff in  _ forever, _ ” He explained as he brought the fork up to his mouth, sticking it in for probably no other reason than to fuck with Len. “Can’t cook all that good, and really, it’s not like it would fill me up, so it’d be a waste of time. Which is why I’ve been having these bad boys-” Len watched him reach into his pocket and pulled out what looked like an energy bar while also slowly dragging that fork from in between his lips and placing it on the plate. Where it. Belonged. “According to Cisco, one of these has a calorie worth amounting to about 850 tacos. They’re gross. He’s still working on the taste.” He glared at the thing as if it had personally offended him, then tucked it back into his pocket. “Though it’s not like those are the only things I’ve been having, that would be a nightmare,” Barry chuckled, leaning back on the chair. “Aside from that, it’s been mostly takeout. Though to be perfectly real with you here, I’ll eat pretty much anything anyone gives me. Maybe you _should_ have gone with poison, huh? Too late, can’t get rid of me now.”

 

“Barry. Stop.” Len pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging it lightly. That was way too much unnecessary information provided all at once. “The only thing I’ve eaten in the past 38 hours has been half a waffle. I don’t have the energy for this.”

 

At the revelation that Len should be starving, Barry looked stricken. He looked at the wiped out plate of food guilty, then back up at Len. “Oh.” 

 

The guilty look was replaced with one of determination just as Barry hopped up from his chair. He looked strangely excited. Len did _not_ share the sentiment. Barry beamed at him, and raised up a palm. “Wait a sec-” was all he said before speed out of Len's kitchen, and out the door. 

 

That could not be a good sign. 

 

Len wasn’t even given enough time to move from his position, or even really consider whether he should be closing the door before the red blur returned to his open kitchen along with a breeze, then left again. This back and forth repeated a couple more times as boxes piled onto his table. Wait, was that chinese takeout?

  
Skidding across his tiles, Barry finally stopped in front of Len, smiling like he had just won a medal. Or more likely all of the medals ever. Why was he smiling so much? Stop that. “Okay, so, I went to get you some food, but then realised I know nothing about what you eat, so I just got...Everything.” He stepped aside and gestured over to the boxes, “I got my favourite from the best Chinese place, which is a no-brainer. There’s some pizza, too-- but then I thought about how maybe you’re not a pizza guy, which would be-” with a deadly serious look, he turned to look at Len. “Insane.- So I got you a bunch of salads from three different places, then I remembered dessert, which is why there are two pies, and two buckets of ice cream. Mint chocolate chip and plain vanilla, because you can’t go wrong with vanilla. _Also,_ I got you some energy bars for the day in a bunch of different flavours.” Barry picked up one of the bars excitedly, showing it off, “You know, just in case.”

In case of what? The zombie apocalypse? An earthquake which traps Len inside his house for days on end? This was just excessive. How had he even gotten all of that in such a short amount of time? There were just way too many questions to be asked. Len took in a deep breath, then let himself relax, shoulders slumping forward as he allowed the corner of his mouth to tug up in a half smile.

 

“...Thanks, Scarlet.”

 

As if on cue, Barry’s cheeks lit up a rosy colour, looking all wide-eyed and lost as if Len had just announced that he was dropping out of the criminal business. Which would never happen. He broke out in one of his signature blindingly wide grins, eyes crinkling up as a hand brushed over the back of his neck. “No big deal.” He shrugged, his voice small, suddenly turning bashful.

  
Or maybe it was just him being humble. Len’s hand slipped from the surface behind him as he took a step closer to Barry, watching the way those bright eyes anxiously darted up to meet his. Without looking away, Len curled his hand around Barry’s. It was impossible to miss the way Barry's breath hitched and how much redder his face got. “Uh-” he started to say, but interrupted himself by swallowing. Len let his hand linger for a few seconds, then moved away as he took the energy bar from his hand, looking down at it in feigned interest. “‘Chocolate Peanut Butter’?” he huffed, smirking when he met Barry’s eyes again. “Sounds made up.”

 

“It’s-” Barry gulped again, his now empty hand withdrawing in to himself. “Really good.” The breathlessness to his voice was distracting, which made Len question why exactly Barry was so easy to fluster.    
  


It was honestly refreshing to see that he wasn’t the only one being weirdly affected by their pointless interaction, and it did make him want to see how deep Barry's reactions ran.   
  


Len hummed in acknowledgement, and slowly ran his tongue over his lips, specifically focused on the way Barry followed the movement. What a blatant confirmation. Len couldn’t help the wide smirk the realisation caused, which seemed to tip Barry off to something, as his eyes quickly bolted up with a distinct sense of panic in them.

 

“I have to go.” He blurted, stumbling back, bumping into the table, then awkwardly shuffling around it. “It’s, uh-” Barry wiggled out the phone out of his pocket, and looked down at it as if he had gotten some sort of a notification. “Cisco. He needs my help. With Flash business.” 

 

How see-through. “Mhm.” Len lightly tilted his head to the side, watching in amusement. 

 

Barry flushed and continued moving back, huffing out a hysterical laugh. “You know how it is. Bye!” Barry was gone within the next second, leaving behind his faint trail of colours along with the sparks of electricity in the air.   
  
  
  
The best part was that he had not looked Len in the face even once throughout the telling of his laughably obvious lie.

 

Turns out Len _could_ have some fun for himself, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically pure fluff?? Except not a lot of fluff because I am writing about Fools™.  
> Just a little relationship development before Chapter 9 kicks all of our asses.
> 
> I'd like to say thank you again for all the comments and kudos' left !!! I am over the moon. I appreciate all feedback, along with corrections/critiques. Hope you enjoyed the chapter??  
> !!


	8. Slow and Steady...

“You’re late!”

 

Funny. A quick raise of his watch showed Len that he was right on time, as per his usual punctuality. It just so happened that his lovely sister had decided to come a little early for a change. Considering it was most probably for the purpose of her own entertainment, it did nothing to lift his spirits.

  
Snart, geared up in his usual equipment, made his way to the lounge, with Lisa bouncing along besides him. Looking around reminded him of how much everything had changed, and he turned to the face cause of it all with a stern look on his face.  
  
  
“What did you do to the place?”

 

“You like? I spruced it up while you were away.”

 

That was putting it lightly. It was like he was in an entirely different place. Len frowned, hand going to fix his watch absentmindedly. “It’s unnecessary.”

 

Lisa snorted, clearly not convinced because common sense was a foreign concept to her. “What’s the point of being a criminal if you’re not going to reap the profits? Chin up, Lenny. Live a little!”

 

Deciding to completely ignore her at this point, Len just walked straight into the common room. Looking around he saw that everyone (including Rathaway) was present. Huh. How convenient. This meant that they could get to business quicker. Fantastic, at least  _ something _ was going smoothly in his mess of a life.   
  
His mind drifted off to his lunch, which thanks to Barry, had consisted of a weird mix between Chinese food, pizza, and salad. That was without even counting dessert. Even thinking back on it made him feel a little sick. The combination had not been the smartest thing, but really, Len just didn’t want the food to go to waste. Ironically enough, the decision to combine the food meant that he had leftovers from everything. He’d have to get Mick and Lisa to help him out. They loved eating specifically  _ his _ food. If they saw a pile of crisps laying there, untouched, they wouldn't even give it a second glance. Whereas the second Len picked one up for himself, they would leap at the opportunity to eat from him. It was ridiculous. 

 

Well, he could at least find comfort in the oddity which was his crew’s punctuality. To add to the strangeness of it all, said crew were all getting along in what appeared to be a pleasant game of cards. It didn’t look like any limbs had been ripped off as of yet, so everything seemed to be in good nature. Even Rathaway was in the mix, despite being a complete newcomer as far as all the others were concerned.  
  
Well, whatever, as long as it made his job easier, Len didn’t really care.

 

Just as he went to think on maybe everything would go smoothly, and maybe he should give them the time to finish their game, Shawna all of a sudden sprung up from her chair, hands flinging up in exasperation. “You cheated!” She pointed at Axel, who was staring in mock surprise.

 

“Who, me?” He gasped, hand going to rest right above his chest, “Why, I would never!”   
  
  
Upon seeing that Shawna wasn’t buying the act, he scoffed, and leaned back in his couch, arms crossed. “Not like you can prove it. Besides, you weren’t gonna win anyways. You suck at this.”

 

“ _ What _ did you just say, punk?” Glaring daggers at Axel, Shawna laid her hands on the table, leaning in close. “I’m going to-”

 

Yeah, no. “Settle down, kids,” Len chimed in after noticing that everyone else had been content just watching their teammates preparing to rip each other’s heads off. So much for getting along.

 

Instead of getting his desired results of a calmer atmosphere, he got Mick laughing. “Ah, come on. They were just getting to the fun part.” 

 

“Yeah, Lenny. Remember that word? F-u-n?” Lisa spelled it out as she poked at his shoulder, earning her a blank stare that suggested she should probably lay off. Knowing her limits, she did just that, and hopped on the bar counter instead. Last thing he needed was to be mocked in front of all these kids. Might give them the wrong idea that he could be messed with, which would not bode well for them.    


 

 

“Let’s just get on with it.” Hartley tossed his cards on the table, revealing his losing hand to everyone. “I’m not here for games,” He muttered, standing up to move away from where the group had huddled up.    
  


Mick snorted, bent over and staring at the cards splayed out on the table. “With a hand like that, it’s understandable, kid.”

  
Instead of taking up the bait,  Rathaway just scoffed and took a seat on the bar, while still keeping a healthy distance from Lisa, who did not pass up the opportunity to latch on to a new prey. She immediately slid on the counter so she was closer to him, and flashed a predatory grin. Eliciting the appropriate response, Hartley just frowned, and looked over at Len’s direction, probably waiting for the actual meeting to happen. 

 

“All right, enough fun. Gather ‘round. This isn’t gonna take long.”

 

Truth be told, most of the Rogues weren’t even needed for their little operation to be successful, and would serve as back ups just in case something went wrong, such as the Flash appearing. Though considering how last time, when Len himself had been broken out, Flash hadn’t interfered, it was unlikely for him to do so the oncoming time. Still, it never hurt to be prepared for all possibilities.

 

Bivolo, who had remained quiet the whole time, followed behind Axel and Mick as they approached the bar, where Len had laid out the blueprints once again, and had begun reciting each of the Rogues’ roles, with the addition of Hartley Rathaway.

 

Len had already set the basics up, along with establishing a communication line with Mardon. So, taking that into account, the soonest time they could act would be sometime during the following week. Keeping the Rogues in check for so long would be a challenge, as they all seemed to be buzzing with energy and the desire to wreak havoc, but they would have to hold off for a little longer. Meanwhile, it was Len’s job to make sure everything was planned perfectly, which meant this meeting had to be as thorough as possible.   
  


By the time he finished explaining the basics, the room had significantly quieted down. 

 

“Now before I go on- if the Flash makes an appearance, don’t engage.”

 

There was a slight pause as his words seemed to wash over the room, and a lag before Shawna’s hand slammed on the tabletop. “What do you mean ‘ _ don’t engage _ ’? You can’t just expect us to run away.” Shawna seemed more baffled rather than pissed off, despite her rude interruption, which was a lot easier to deal with.

 

“No one said anything about running. We just need to keep a low profile. Need I remind you we have the upper hand? Unless you’re directly threatened, don’t make yourself known, so when we pull an _actual heist_ , the Flash will be taken by surprise.” Len couldn’t have fathomed why he would have need to explain such a basic concept, but here he was, doing just that.   
  
It would present a rare opportunity to pull a big heist, and Len had had been working on one for a few months now. With his new team, he’d be able to do the whole thing in a much faster, and easier way. “Should be a clean in and out, without causing too much ruckus,” He looked right at Mick as he spoke, who grumbled in response. 

 

“It’s  _ always _ in and out with you.” Not this again. “When do I get to  _ burn _ things?” Eloquent as always, Mick seemed pretty peeved at this not at all revelation. Len had to have had repeated the nature of their task, and how it should be kept as low profile as possible, at least five times throughout his explanations.

 

“Mick. Buddy." He flashed a grin, "You’ll get to burn down anyone who decides they wanna colour outside the lines,” Len gestured towards the new members, smirking, “and  _ not _ follow directions. How’s that sound?”

 

Satisfied, his friend nodded, a wide smirk splitting his face. “Sounds  _ great, _ ” He laughed wildly, flicking on his lighter as he did so.

 

Always so easy to understand. Despite their occasional little hiccups, Mick and Len probably understood each other better than anyone else could, aside from Lisa, who claimed she knew absolutely everything about her brother. A statement which succeeded in creeping him out every single time it was said.

  
“To be clear, all you lot will be doing until the day of our plan is _waiting_. All you need to do is know your role.” He then got up from his seat, and stepped back, gesturing for Hartley to come closer. “That’s it for know. Keep yourselves available, and try not to kill each other meanwhile, kids.”

 

Almost as soon as he left the common room, he heard Shawna’s voice, soon joined by Axel’s. They sounded like they were about to kill each other. Guess he really was in charge of kindergartners.

  
He made his way into the backroom, leaving the door open as he sat himself down on Victorian looking couch which had most definitely not been in there before. Hartley trailed in a few seconds after, and closed the door as Len gestured towards it.

 

“Sit down,” he instructed, and watched as Hartley sat on one of the single couches. He didn’t look even remotely out of place in the overly extravagant room. In fact, it was most probably what he had been most used to in the past. Len could easily tell that his life wasn’t as luxurious anymore, though.

 

“You’re in charge of the communication system, accounted for each member. Make it as indistinct as possible, hard to notice. You think you can manage that, Rathaway?”

 

It was almost comical the way Hartley’s chin rose and his back immediately straightened. “Are you kidding? That stuff is child’s play,” he let out a huff of breath through his mouth, and smirked. “I’ll have it done by tomorrow.”

 

That was a bold claim. Len leaned further back in the cushions, and shifted so his head rested on the knuckles of his hand. “Get it done in less. We have the equipment you’ll need right here, in the workshop.”

 

Hartley seemed a little peeved at his request, but nodded anyway.

 

“And since you’ll have the time, the Rogues all want personalised little gadgets, which you’ll also be in charge of.”

 

Len stood up from his seat, and walked over to the cabinet on the wall, which was filled to the brim displaying a large variety of alcoholic drinks. Was this Lisa’s idea of decoration? He picked up a bottle of scotch, and turned it around curiously. It was clearly expensive, which made him wonder how much money had been spent on the whole redecoration process.   
  
“If you find yourself missing something, tell me. I’ll _ acquire _ it for you.” He turned around to face Hartley again, who was now standing, arms crossed.

 

“Got it. I’ll make a list,” Hartley muttered, head turning to look at the wall, clearly not expecting any of the equipment Len said they had to suffice for anything. 

  
Len nodded, calling it the end of their conversation. This would not only occupy both Rathaway along with the other Rogues, but it would also help to increase their teamwork. Having them go through some sort of disagreement while they were in action would be costly.  
  
The door swung open in a forceful motion, interrupting Len's thoughts and alerting Hartley, who had been about to leave, causing him to spin his head around all too fast. Seeing Lisa smirking did basically nothing to calm either of them down. 

 

“Oops. Am I interrupting something?” She moved in closer, leaving the door open behind her as she looked between Hartley and Len.

 

Hartley’s face went blank, and he huffed out a breath in annoyance. 

 

“Geez.  _ Someone _ ’s a grumpy cat. Maybe you two should shack up, make you lose some of that tension,” she winked at Hartley, grinning like the insufferable thing she was. First, it was playing cupid by trying her absolute best to set Len up with Barry, and now this? Would Len  _ ever  _ catch a break?

 

“I’ll be in the workshop,” Hartley informed Len, then walked past Lisa and out the door. It was genuinely surprising that he didn’t shove her, actually. 

 

Turning towards his sister, Len sighed at the possibilities of what would follow.

 

“What is it now?”

 

Instead of putting on her usual offended act, Lisa closed the door behind her then walked over to the couch Len had been sitting on before, and practically laid herself across it. “It’s about Roy Bivolo.”

 

Len frowned at the tone of her voice, and walked over to stand in front of the couch, arms crossed and looking at his sister. “What ‘bout him?”

 

“I don’t think he should be on the team.” 

 

Well this was...Surprising. Especially considering the fact that the only reason that Bivolo was accounted for in Len’s plan was due to Lisa supposedly having offered him a spot. Len really had not seen this coming. Instead of elaborating, which would be the sensible thing to do, Lisa just stared at her nails, watching the light reflect off of them.   
  
Always so difficult. Taking in a deep breath, Len uncrossed his arms. “Explain.”

 

At that, Lisa threw her legs off of the couch, taking on a seated position with her elbows placed above her knees. “He’s dangerous-and not in the Mick sorta dangerous, but in the way that he might be a direct threat to us. With powers like that, he could make us turn against each other like  _ that, _ ” she snapped her fingers together with a loud _snap_ , and frowned. “Just have a feeling he’s not to be trusted.”

 

“If he wanted to, he could have already tried that. He had the opportunity, but here we are,” he made a sweeping gesture, then lowered his arm, hand resting against his pocket, where it brushed against the indent of the snack he had inside. “You worry too much, sis. Even if things get out of hand, all we have to do is take the problem out, like we’ve always done.”

 

After a few seconds of consideration, Lisa nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She sighed, admittedly still looking very much so worried. Len rolled his eyes, and pulled out the snack from his pocket, tossing it over at Lisa, who immediately caught it with a single hand.

  
Bringing it to her face, she read the label out loud with a smile, “Chocolate peanut butter flavoured? Didn’t know you ate this stuff.” 

 

“I don’t,” he shrugged, smiling back at her.

 

Lisa chuckled, raising a brow questioningly as she tore the wrapper open. “Thanks, Lenny.”

 

Len took a seat next to Lisa who was now crunching on the bar with a pleasantly surprised expression, and pulled out another protein bar from his other pocket. Oats and honey flavoured. He briefly questioned Barry’s choice in snacks, then unwrapped it, taking a bite of his own. Huh. It was actually quite alright. Good thing, too, since there was a small pile of them back on his kitchen counter. Wouldn't want them to go to waste.

 

“Also, are we really breaking Jesse out?” Lisa asked while chewing, mouth full, and with no regard for common decency. If it was anyone else, they probably wouldn’t have understood what she had said, but Len had practice. So _much_  practice.

 

“Who knows.” Len took another bite, and let himself relax into the couch, closing his eyes momentarily. He really didn’t want to think over the Jesse James issue again. He’d already listed all the possible pros and cons of breaking him out, and leaving him to rot, with the results turning up inconclusive. Once he prioritised the quality of his heists and the growth of the Rogues, it made sense to include Jesse, but when safety and such were taken into consideration, all the benefits went down the train. Whether he joined Len’s team highly depended on the day itself, seeing as the Trickster was far from his number one priority. Snart didn’t quite care either way. Once it was all said and done, Jesse would either be part of the Rogues, or dead.   
  
He opened his eyes, thankful for the dim orange lightning of the room as he glanced besides himself, towards Lisa. “Why, you got a bad feeling about him too?” Len teased, smirking.

 

“Ha. Ha. You’re a riot. I was serious about Bivolo. Just...Be careful, alright?” She tossed the empty wrapper on the glass table in front of them, eyebrows knitted together as she looked towards the door. 

  
Len leaned forward, smirking, “When am I not?” he managed to pat Lisa on the head once before his hand was smacked hand away. 

  
“Hey! Watch it. These curls take time and effort,” she huffed, and flipped her hair right in Len’s face, making him recoil and scrunch up his nose. She then got up as if she hadn’t just smacked Len in the face with her hair, which surprisingly did hurt a little, and walked over to the door. Her heels were distractingly loud as they clicked against the wooden flooring, which didn’t so much as creak under the pressure. Lisa stopped when she reached the door, and turned back towards the room. “Did you ask lover boy out yet?”

  
Just when he thought he might have been safe. “I’m not asking him out, Lise. I’m a thief, and he works for the police.” What would it take to get his sister to back off? He had a feeling that even if she did know Barry’s alter ego, she wouldn’t think the whole thing absurd, like it actually was, and would instead find amusement in Len’s suffering, as she always did.

  
Len watched her hand dropped from the handle and move to rest on her hip as she made a spectacle of rolling her eyes. “Lenny. Tell me. Do I look like I care what his job is?” She indicated towards her entirely unimpressed expression, then shook her head in disappointment. “I’m not telling you to marry the guy, just have a little fun! It’s not like you’re in love.”

 

Lisa stopped, and leaned forward, eyebrows raising. “You’re not, right?”

 

Unbelievable. 

 

“No, Lise. I’m not in love.”

 

“Oh, phew!” Lisa wiped the imaginary sweat from her brow and sighed in great relief. Len wasn’t sure if he should be offended or not, so he settled on somewhere in between. “That means you’ll have no trouble going on a little date with him.” She winked at him with that huge smile on her face as she turned the knob and pulled the door in, “Remember! Fun.” She whispered with a wide grin, then closed the door. 

 

It was almost painful remembering that all this hell was being rained down on him due to his drunken ramblings. No man could be held accountable for what they might have said when under the influence, yet here he was.

 

Len really regretted  _ all  _ of his decisions right about now, and he  _ would _ have resorted to drinking his problems away had alcohol not been the whole catalyst of the disaster which was his life. Alcohol had never helped anyone with anything, especially not Leonard Snart. But he wasn’t exactly in a position in which he could afford to complain. What he really needed to do was to resolve the whole situation, especially his nonsense attraction, as soon as possible. Through asking Barry on a date.

  
Len brought up the half eaten protein bar to his face, and glared at it. Astoundingly, it did  _ not _ make him feel any better.

  
But taking another bite did.

 

Now all he needed was a long (possibly eternal) nap, and to rid himself of Lisa’s pestering, which could only be done through following through his promise. His promise which had been to go on a date with Barry. Barry Allen, CSI, and the Flash. 

 

Child’s play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually supposed to be part of the last chapter, but it got too long. I'm considering highering the word count for each chapter, but I'm not too sure.
> 
> As per usual, criques/feedback in general is always appreciated !! [If you see any typos or mistakes, please do point them out !] I gotta say thank you once again for the kudos' left and the comments, you guys are awesome !!!!!! <333


	9. Rock Bottom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning !  
> There's mentions of child abuse [and emotional abuse] along with some self harm elements. [Pretty much same as Chapter 1]

For a so called maximum security prison, the meta-human wing in Iron Heights was a complete joke. Given, it wasn’t as easy as popping in and out, otherwise the whole ordeal would have been as easy as to send Peek-A-Boo to do the job. But that still didn’t excuse how ridiculously easy it was to plan a prison break. Bribe a couple of guards, update the blueprint of the building, establish contact with Mardon and go on in there with your crew. Overall, the process was expected to take less than 10 minutes. Any more than that would mean that something had gone wrong.

It took them about three and a half minutes to get to exactly where they needed in the prison. On the fourth minute mark, Mardon was out of his cell and on his way to freedom, via the courtesy of Shawna. Getting in had been considerably easy, what with all the blind spots using guards offered, and the ridiculous amount of windows that had no business being there. But predictably, the alarms started blaring half a minute later, causing any glimpse into the outside to be covered with thick metal reinforcement. And _that_  was why Lisa and Len had followed along.

 

“We gettin’ Jesse?” Mardon, being his usual demanding self, kept trying to pry information out of Len, which really, Len wasn’t going to have any of it. Especially at the moment, seeing as he was busy trying to freeze a reinforced door off.

  
He hadn’t been able to get the specifics on the type of metal used to lock down the place prior to the breakout, but he had prepared for it as best he could.   
  
Snart lowered his cold gun just as Lisa impatiently raised a heel and slammed it against the ice, shattering it completely. If freezing it hadn’t worked out, then they would have used the gold gun instead, and if it turned out that wouldn’t help, then Mardon would have made himself useful. He should have known all he needed to do was rely on the lacking budget of Iron Heights to make his job easier than it alreqady was.

 

A quick check of the time showed him that they still had plenty of time until the orders got through to up the security on Jesse’s cage. Considering the guy had broken out twice, it was good protocol, but as always, just not good enough. Snart reached behind his ear and activated his mic. “Any sign of our Scarlet friend?”

  
From the other side of the line, Hartley promptly responded with, “We’re good, he’s still trying to stop the robbery.”

  
All according to plan. He’d sent off Mick and Axel to pull a little heist of their very own to take the heat off of the main goal. So far, it was going just as he had predicted. If only they didn’t have to waste time breaking out the Trickster. Len stifled his annoyance, and began following the path to his cell, mapping it out in his head. They had recently moved Jesse over to another cell, after the last couple of incidents, one with a lot more technical security, which meant they couldn’t just blast in guns blazing like Mick would have liked it. No, this required more tact.

  
Len stopped behind a corner, and turned to Shawna. “Y’know what to do?”

 

Shawna brought down her night vision goggles, and gave a thumbs up along with a nervous grin. Snart turned back around, ignoring Mardon who was increasingly getting more annoyed at the lack of any real answers, and checked in over the comm link instead. “Lights out, Rathaway.”

 

“Gotcha.” On command, the metal barriers on the windows and doors rose up with the fizzing of lights as the electricity cut off, preventing the barriers from coming back down again. “The backup generator is down for the next two minutes. Better make it quick,” Hartley informed him over the earpiece as Len made his way and clocked one of the guards that were on duty in the face with the butt of his gun, accidentally breaking his nose while Lisa took care of the other one.

 

“Lenny, why don’t we get to have a pair of those fancy goggles?” Even though he couldn’t see her, Len knew that she was gesturing over to Shawna, who had been the only one provided with the gift of seeing in the dark.

 

“Not enough time and resources, Lisa. Believe it or not, we’re not actually made of money.” Now that the guards were out of the way, Len pulled out a small torch from his pocket, and flicked it on before tossing it over to Lisa to catch, who caught it, and stared at him incredulously. He shrugged, "Budget cuts."

 

Making his way into Jesse’s private little cell was as unpleasant as one would expect. The Trickster was humming something that was probably a creepy rendition of a nursery rhyme, and when the bright light flashed in his eyes, he grinned as wide as his face could take it. “To what do I owe the pleasure,  _ Cold _ ?” He hummed out before breaking into a fit of giggles.

  
He already regretted coming for this jackass. “Save the pleasantries, Jesse. We’re on the clock.” Len tipped his head to the side, an indication for Shawna, who popped in besides Jesse, put a hand on his shoulder, then disappeared out of the room. While waiting, they stepped out and re positioned under the barred window for easier access. Len leaned against the wall, and glanced at his watch. When he looked back up, he saw Lisa making shadow puppets against the wall. Len stared at her with furrowed brows, and she stopped, shrugging as she raised up her head to stare back. “What? I’m bored.”

 

Shawna appeared in between them, and looked around. “Let’s go!” She seemed way more excited than before, probably from the high of playing out what was turning out to be a very successful getaway plan. This time, when she pulled her magic trick, she took all of them along.

 

They were on the edge of the prison, as far as they could be while still retaining all the necessary access to their system. In the parked van with the opened doors was Hartley, surrounded by what Len would call way too many screens, but what Rathaway deemed necessary for top performance. Len had a feeling that he just liked the aesthetic of it.  
  
Bivolo was leaning against one of the doors, arms crossed, and looking very unhappy (as usual) about being there.

 

“That was a wild ride!” Mardon clasped Len on the shoulder for a fleeting second, not enough for Len to properly express how much he did  _ not _ appreciate the gesture before he walked towards the road, arms outstretched, taking in a deep, exaggerated breath. “Ahh, how I’ve missed the fresh air.” He gripped his hands in tight fists, and barely a second later, a bolt of lightning struck down in front of him, startling everyone around him.

 

Len actually had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “You keep playing god of thunder and you won’t be out to enjoy it for long.”

 

Turning around, Mardon laughed, amused by the comment instead of angered by it, as Len would have expected him to be.

 

“We’ve got a problem.”

 

All eyes turned to Hartley, who was typing away at his computer. “It’s the Flash. He’s heading-”

 

The slight breeze in the wind following the audible snapping of static energy cut him off. The Flash was standing a couple of feet away from the Rogues, and from what Snart could see, he didn’t exactly look surprised to see them banded together. So much for the element of surprise, then.

 

“Stop what you’re doing, Snart! I already took care of your two friends, they’ll be in custody soon enough.”

 

Everything had been going so smoothly, too. The air around his crew had completely changed. Despite Len’s warnings to avoid confrontation, there wasn’t anything they could do if they had already been dragged into it. As far as Len could tell, Jesse and Mardon in particular were the most unhappy to see him, what with the clouds looming over to cover the already dim lights of the stars and the moon, and the stiff expression on Jesse's face. At least the Trickster didn’t have any of his usual weapons, which meant he’d be absolutely useless in a fight, sure, but also much easier to handle.

 

“It’s already done, Red. But I’ll still give you a gold star for trying,” Snart charged up his gun and aimed it at the Flash logo, finger resting on the trigger as he flashed a cocky smirk.

  
He briefly glanced over at the van, and at Hartley who caught his gaze, and nodded. In case of the Flash appearing, they had discussed the plan of making him more vulnerable through disconnecting him from the communication system that linked him back to S.T.A.R. Labs. 

  
  
There wasn't a thing Len hadn't planned far. As long as he would involved, everything would go just as it was supposed to.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of coloured, and turned to see Bivolo taking his sunglasses off and moving to step out of the shadows, where he had been hidden by the van’s stretched out doors.

  
Snart cursed in his head, mind racing as he played out the possibilities and remembered Lisa's warning.

 

“Don’t!” He shouted over to Bivolo, completely on impulse, who turned to look at him with startled, wide eyes, which were glowing an unnatural bright red.

 

At first Len felt and heard nothing except a small voice at the back of his head, warning him of what was to come. It felt surprisingly peaceful for a second, as if he was adrift on some ocean, dipped under the waves and carried along the flow. Or maybe that’s just what the small moment of emptiness felt like compared to the overwhelming emotion that then swept over him, and drowned him.  
  
Red. His vision was tinged in it, and it bled out into his corneas, making it so that it was the only thing he could really see. There was also the strange sensation urging him to lash out, to hurt, to kill.   
  
That’s what he got for letting idiots into his team, it figured they would ruin everything for him. Who did they think they were? Even with clear cut rules, they still managed to mess this up for him, as if they didn't take his words seriously. As if he didn't matter. Leonard Snart _wasn’t_ a pawn to be ignored, and he sure as hell wouldn’t let himself be walked all over like he was. He deserved better, and he was going to make sure that they knew that-that  _everyone_ knew that.

 

Snart felt vaguely detached from reality as he redirected his gun towards Bivolo in one smooth motion, who was looking distinctly panicked, and very much so frozen. What an easy target. It was almost laughable. Before he could pull the trigger, though, he felt an imposing hand wrap around his wrist and hold it down. There was something being said at him, but he tuned it all out, letting the deafening silence take over in his head. When he turned to look at who it was, it was only to get a better shot in.   
He jerked his arm back in a sudden swing, and watched as Lisa stumbled along. Snart then took the opportunity to draw his hand back in an arc, balling up his hand in a fist, before landing a punch her right in her gut. He felt nothing but annoyance as the hand slipped from his wrist, and as Lisa keeled over, knees hitting the ground as she coughed, sounding absolutely pitiful.

 

“You’re always trying to  _ hold me down  _ and  _ control _ me, why is that? Is it not enough that I had to endure all those years of  _ shit _ for you, sister?” Even as he spoke, none of the words registered in his head, his own voice a distant grating noise. Snart rolled his shoulders, and adjusted his hold on the gun as he pointed it down at his so called sister, who was looking up at him with a horrified expression. 

 

Her whole life, the only thing she had done was was make his harder. As a child, he thought himself a hero whenever he took a blow meant for her, when he volunteered to go on jobs with Lewis so Lisa could stay safe, but all it did was just make it hurt more for him. As if he hadn’t been hurt enough already. Each time his father went to hit her, Len antagonised him, so he’d take the hit instead. It always, without fail, left a mark, one he could see for days. Instead of feeling pride at saving his sister, he felt shameful at how he couldn’t stop himself for crying, and how he had been made weak. Not because he had been that was before, but because of how weak his sister was, and how she made him the same way.

That was why he had run away. He should have left her alone, like she deserved. After all, what had _she_ ever done for _him?_ _ She _ had never stood up for him. All she was good for was making him feel like a failure for not having been able to stop her from getting hurt, even though it was impossible task, because how could he always be there for her? He wasn’t superman. As much as he had liked to tell her that as kids, it was always for her sake, even though the comparison only ever made him feel more useless than he already was.

Even now, Lisa would not stop getting on his nerves. He was fed up with her pretending as if she knew everything about him, when really, no one knew him.  _ She _ needed to be taught that.

 

“Let this be a  _ lesson _ .”

 

He pulled the trigger.

 

The white of his ice was so overwhelming that Snart had to turn his head and close his eyes. The feeling the gun’s slight chill, and the shifting of the wind along with the blinding white penetrating his eyelids felt more intense than usual. Ah, that’s right. He didn’t have his goggles on. What a rookie mistake.   
  
When the glare subsided, Snart blinked, feeling a slight headache coming on. Had there always been so many trees around? He looked down at what should have been the frozen remnants of his ‘sister’, but all he saw was a frozen patch of grass. Without even thinking about it, he swiftly turned his head around, and raised his gun, ready to shoot the Flash, because who else could have made him change locations without Snart actually realising it? The kid had it coming.

 

Just as he turned, another bright light blinded him, this time shined directly into his eyes, and with alternating colours. It hurt his head even more to look at it, and it made him feel sick.

 

“Ugh,” Len grumbled, hand going up to hold his head as confusion washed over him. “What…?”

 

After blinking excessively in a failed attempt to get a better bearing of what was happening, Len saw the Flash in front of him, kneeling at eye level. Kneeling? Oh. Len was somehow on the ground, which explained why his knees hurt. 

 

He slowly lowered his head, and stared down at his gun. It still felt cold against his hand, even through the gloves, so he let go of it, letting it fall besides him. When Len looked more carefully, he saw that his hands were shaking excessively. The barely noticeable chill he had felt inside of him earlier spread out like a hot fire, burning through him. 

 

What had he done?

 

“Snart, are you alright?”

 

_ Lisa _ . 

 

“Snart…”

 

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, _no_ -

 

Len would have killed her. He could still feel the lingering impulse in his twitching hands-he would have _killed_ her. The sickening feeling held onto him tightly, and Len jerked forward, hand slapping over his mouth to prevent himself from throwing up.  
He hit her--and, and-- _lesson._ He’d used the exact same words as him, done the exact same things. This couldn’t be happening.   
  
Snart’s heart was hammering in his chest, the cold air doing nothing against his skin. It was like he had been set on fire.

 

“No, no, no…” He mouthed the word over and over again, voice muffled by his glove. Snart gagged, and lowered his head further. Lisa had stuck by him, and protected  _ him _ in ways that meant more than taking a few hits. How could he have thought that about her? If it wasn’t for her, then Leonard Snart would have turned out heartless, uncaring, dead. She was the one that kept him alive, so how could he-” _ No _ .” He ripped his gloves off messily with trembling hands, just so he could feel his nails digging into his skin, so his hands stopped _moving_ , and so he didn’t have to see how out of control he really was.

  
It was all too much. He didn’t deserve--he couldn’t  _ stay _ . Lisa had known something would go wrong, she’d warned him about Bivolo, but he hadn’t listened, thought it to be paranoia, even though he had known the dangers of keeping such a metahuman on the team. The man was barely able to control his powers, yet still, he hadn't cared. If only he had listened.

 

Snart snapped his head up in shock when he felt a warm touch on his fists, eyes wide. Barry had taken his cowl off, and was smiling at him. The reassuring display allowed his mind to ease for a split second, before he realised what he was doing.   
  
“ _ No _ .” His voice was raw, with an intensity he didn’t recognise. He held onto the only word that seemed to make sense, even when his voice stopped working, and the shape of the word was all he could hold onto. He pulled his hands back as his knuckles went white at the increased strength of his grip. Snart didn’t have the right to feel reassured, not after what he had done. He’d known it all along, but this time it really opened his eyes.

 

He was the same as Lewis Snart. Bivolo's powers only brought out the anger that was already in you, every single one of those thoughts-they belonged to Leonard. They came from within him. That meant that he was the exact same type of monster who would hurt someone who he was supposed to love, blaming them--blaming Lisa for everything even though she’s the one that deserves to be happy, not Leonard. Never Leonard. 

 

“Hey, that wasn’t you,” Barry’s voice was gentle and so very soft compared to his own. Snart sounded wrecked, even to his own ears, and all he could do was repeat ‘no’ under his breath. The word didn’t make any sense to him anymore, but he still said it, as if repeating it would wake him up, because this  _ had _ to be a bad dream. It had to be.   
  


  
Please, just let it be a bad nightmare.

 

“ _ Snart- _ ” He twitched at the reminder, and grit his teeth. “Look at me,” The voice insisted with the care one would have when talking to a child.

 

Snart lifted up his head, just because he didn’t know what else to do, and blinked, then blinked again. Tears? He was- _ Shit _ . A hand flew up to wipe at his face, but his hand was grabbed before he could do anything. “ _ Don’t- _ ” Snart choked out, and instead of letting go like he had several times before, Barry kept holding on, and Len still had tears he didn’t ask for on his face, and his hand was shaking, and--Why wouldn’t he just _let go_!?

  
When he finally made eye contact with Barry, it was to glare at him. The hatred came easily to him, he only had to redirect it. “That’s the thing, Flash,” He spat, fingers digging into his palm once again. “It  _ was _ me. Your constant preaching about there being  _ good _ in me?” A laugh came out of him, rough in a way that hurt his throat. “It’s all bullshit. I would have killed her.”

 

Saying it outloud made him feel sick again, but he didn’t stop speaking. It was the truth, after all. “Because that’s what I do. I’m a killer.”

 

The tender look in Barry’s eyes didn’t go away, and it only made Snart hate him even more. “You’re bleeding.” was the response that came, as the hand that he was held was turned in a way that made the light reflected off of the blood and the moon shaped indents on his skin which barely stung. For what he did to Lisa, he deserved so much worse.

  
He felt the familiar sort of anger bubbling up inside of him, different from the controlled reaction he had when those eyes bore into his, but similar enough to make him remember. “Who cares!?” Snart yanked his hand from Barry’s grip to grab at the Flash suit’s collar, dragging him closer. 

 

“Didn’t you hear me?! I said I’m a killer!” His voice was loud enough to echo around the trees, giving him the impression that they were deep in the woods somewhere.

 

At the lack of response, Snart shoved Barry back, letting go in favour of cupping his face with his bloodied hands, fully expecting to be left alone. But when he felt a hand on his shoulder, he remained unmoving, and focused on his breathing. In through the nose, and out through the mouth. Just like always. Even as he got his breathing under control, the blackness inside of him didn’t subside, if anything, it got worse.   
  
  
“You didn’t kill anyone, Len.”

 

Len. His breath caught in his throat and he closed his eyes. It was an unfamiliar name coming from Barry, and the sensation was entirely unfamiliar to him.

 

“I knew it before, and I know it now. You’re not a bad person. What happened back there wasn’t your fault.”

 

“I would have killed her.” Len let his hands fall from his face, noticing that they weren’t shaking nearly as much as they had been at first.

 

“But you didn’t.”

 

The persistence forced him to lift his head up and look at Barry, who flashed a gentle smile when he met Len’s eyes. “You’re really a handful, kid,” He murmured with a shaky voice, in an attempt to hide how there was no feeling behind what would have previously been a teasing statement,  as he slowly dug his fingers out of his palms. He winced at the pain, and looked down to inspect the damage. Len hadn’t gone this far in a while. His red skin brought back flashes of memories that he’d much rather forget, of a stage in his life he thought he was well past. Turns out he was the same out of control kid that he had been back then. 

 

Barry moved his hand towards the wound, but paused to look at Len for permission. When Len just remained unresponsive, Barry, mindful of the injury, lightly brushed his fingers over the back of his hand before slowly wrapping his fingers around in a loose hold. The fact that Len's hand still wouldn’t stop twitching didn’t seem to bother him.  
  
  
Watching Barry carefully, Len noticed the crease in between his eyebrows, and the frown as he inspected the wounds.”This looks bad. Caitlin should take a look.”

  
Caitlin Snow, the doctor who he had kidnapped to find out the Flash’s identity. He still had enough of his pride to know that asking her for help would be too much, especially with a so obviously self inflicted wound. Barry glanced up at his face, then back down again, rolling the bottom of his lip in between his teeth as he thought. “Okay, you don’t seem to excited about that. I guess I could patch this up. Don’t worry, I have experience doing it on myself when it’s not that serious and I don’t want to worry Caitlin. All we need is a med kit.”

 

Last time this had happened, one of the nurses at the prison had patched his hands up. It had taken about a week for him to be able to hold anything without breaking the skin on his palms, and causing the wound to be reopened. It meant that he basically couldn’t use his hands properly for the entirety of the week. He hadn't needed to, anyway. Solitary confinement meant a lot of sitting in one place, and during that specific time, meals hadn't something he had cared about.  
  
  
Whenever Len got a wound he couldn’t reach, or was unable to treat, Lisa was always the one who took care of it. She was always relentless, never counting down or giving a warning before sterilising the injury or sticking a needle through his skin. Her stitches always sucked, too. He had a couple of them littered around his body, thankfully covered up by his many tattoos. They were truly a monstrosity, and kept snapping, which meant that they had to be redone. Once, Lisa had threatened to use a hot glue gun as a replacement after Len had complained about her bad handywork, which permanently shut him up.

 

_ ‘Let this be a lesson.’ _

 

His words echoed at the back of his head, voice melting into his father’s until they were the same. There was no way he could ask Lisa to forgive him.   
  
  
Barry lightly squeezed his hand, and Len felt fingers inching towards his drying wounds, stopping him before he could make it any worse. “Hey,” Barry’s voice was almost a whisper, offering him unfamiliar comfort as his thumb swept back and forth over Len’s knuckles. “You’re gonna be okay.”    
  


Len couldn’t for the life of him figure out why Barry Allen cared, or why he was knelt on the ground in front of him, knowing somehow exactly what to do and say. It wasn’t like this was the first time Len had someone telling him he could be better, or witness him in a particularly vulnerable state, but unlike them, Barry wasn’t looking at him with pity, or trying to fix him. The most amazing part of it was how he believed that Len was already good-believed in the cut throat criminal and killer Leonard Snart. It would be funny, if it wasn’t so downright sad.

  
Despite the heavy guilt weighing on him, and the familiar feeling of self hatred along with the panic not allowing his heart to slow down, Len found himself wanting to believe in Barry’s words.   
  
  
He didn’t know if it was because he couldn’t handle the possibility that Lisa would come to hate him as she did Lewis, or if it was because the words were coming from Barry Allen, who seemed to, for some unexplainable and bizarre reason, believe in him despite everything, but he felt that maybe-just maybe- there could still be some hope for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, yeah, right.  
> No, I'm joking. There's probably going to be a bit more of the unpleasantness before Len can get better, though !
> 
> Please do leave feedback on how you felt about the chapte, along with criticsm + corrections !! Thank you yet again for all the kudos and the kind words <333 You're all amazing !!!


	10. Not Again

Something felt wrong. Maybe it was something about despite how everything had been going according to plan, the distinct sense of satisfaction was messing. Standing outside in the cool breeze, all Lisa could do was try to think of any possible mistakes that could lead to their operation being a bust.

  
There wasn't anything that came to mind. They were safe,right? _Mardon_ sure seemed free of any troubles.

  
Staying a few steps back, Lisa crossed her arms and looked around. The armoured van they had managed to get a hold on seemed in good shape, and aside from the fact that the team would have to cramp up together to fit inside (due to Hartley’s annoying tech) there wasn’t anything to be concerned about. The plan was supposedly seemless. By the time security recovered their lost date, which had been meant as a diversion, and got to chasing them, they would be gone. They would then recover both Axel and Mick, and half way down the road, Shawna would move them to one of Len’s distasteful warehouses, in which they would hide out in for however long it took to get the heat off of them. The estimation had been a week. After that, without any clues, the police would be forced to divert their attention to some other pressing matter.

 

“We’ve got a problem.”

 

Lisa’s shoulders tensed, and she turned to look at Hartley, who was sitting cross legged and furiously typing away at his keyboard. Usually, she would have been tempted to crack a joke, but she could tell by the way his brow was furrowed that this wasn’t a joking matter.

Oh well. Things never went smoothly for the Snart family, something had been bound to come up.

 

“It’s the Flash, he’s heading-”

 

By the time Lisa turned to see the Flash arriving with a flicker of light, standing a few feet away from their group, she had her gold gun drawn and was ready to shoot.  
  
  
If this was it, then maybe the whole thing wasn’t going to be a bust, after all. As capable of a hero as the Flashwas, he didn’t stand a chance against the Rogues, especially since he likely had not been expecting them. Taking him down should be a piece of cake. Then, they could go on their merry way and get to the fun part of it all. _Stealing.  
_ She kept her gun low, and turned to watch Len, who had that smug smirk on his face, clearly confident that everything would tip over in his favour. Lisa still wasn’t so sure. Even though she knew this wasn’t a big dent in their plans, the uneasiness she felt was still there. Better just get the whole thing over with, so she could go home and have a nice, hot bath. That was bound to lift her spirits.

  
Or not. Lisa saw the flicker of panic in her brother’s eyes, and frowned. By the time she had turned to look at what had gone wrong, it was all over. All she he caught was the faint red disappearing from Bivolo’s eyes as he stared right at Len.

  
Len was standing stiffly in place, seemingly unaffected, and it almost fooled her into being relieved. Almost. That was before she realised that he didn’t have his goggles on, that stupid idiot.  
  
  
His eyes were glowing that unnerving shade of crimson, with faint black veins illuminated by the dim lamp post.

 

_Shit._

 

_Fuck, shit. Shitting fuck!_

 

Damned Roy Bivolo! Fuck up of the century! Lisa knew that he would have costed the team one way or another. But the thing was, he hadn’t even done this on purpose! One look at his guilty, shock-ridden face also told Lisa that he had no idea how to fix it. That’s what she got for inviting a crazed meta with no idea on how to control his powers into the Rogues. Unbelievable.  
  
When she scanned the faces among their group, the gravity of the situation dawned on her. Shawna was right besides her, looking more than confused because no one had actually told her what Bivolo’s powers were. Lisa made a mental note to improve group coherency.  
  
Jesse, along with Mardon, were uncharacteristically silent. The latter seemed to be preparing to lop off someone’s head with an ice cube. _Yeah, good luck with that, tough guy._ Turning to her last hope, the Flash, was an utter disappointment. The guy seemed to  be muttering off into space, distracted as he fiddled with what seemed to be the lightning bolt from the side of his mask. He also had that look on his face which told Lisa that he was completely, and utterly oblivious to the real problem.

 

Did she have to do _everything_ around here?

 

Lisa moved over and stepped up besides Len, grabbing his wrist, preventing him from shooting the guy who probably deserved to be shot. Multiple times. But as far as she was concerned, he didn’t deserve to die over a careless mistake. More importantly, she didn’t feel like letting her brother kill the only person available to them that could reverse what had been done to him.

 

This wasn’t good. She could feel her heart rate spike through the roof as those cold eyes turned to meet her own. This wasn't right. Lisa felt the words she had been meaning to say get stuck in her throat, clogging her speech and her breathing at the same time. She felt like she was a little girl again, staring up at her father in complete and utter fear as she helplessly waited for that bottle to come down. Except this was her brother, the only person she always felt safe around.  
  
Suddenly, Lisa was pulled forwards without realising it. Having been too caught up in her thoughts, all she could do was try not to fall. Her grip on Len’s wrist tightened for a split second, right as she felt the electrifying pain spreading throughout her. Her shoulders hunched forwards on herself reflexively as a feeble attempt to protect herself, but it was already too late. Her brother’s fist was buried in her gut, and it _hurt_. In more ways that one.

 

Lisa gasped. She withdrew her hand to clutch at her stomach as she keeled on the ground, her knees heavily landing on the small pebbles with a slight crunch. She couldn’t even feel the pain as the pebbles tore her skin and made her bleed, too blinded by the familiarity of it all. After a few more ragged breaths, she coughed heavily, and her mind wandered to Mick long enough to appreciate him not being here. It was likely that if he had been here, that her brother would have had half his face burnt off by now, along with the entirety Bivolo, and possibly everyone else. At least things weren’t the worst they could be.

  
Ignoring the wetness in her eyes, Lisa forced herself to look up. For a second, all she saw was the looming figure of Lewis Snart, snarling at her in distaste.

  
  
“You’re always trying to _hold me down_ and _control_ me, why is that?” The familiar voice of her brother called out to her, and Lisa flinched. “Is it not enough that I had to endure all those years of _shit_  for you, sister?”

 

This wasn’t Len. Those weren’t his words. It was obvious that he was just affected by Bivolo’s powers. Crystal clear, really. Except that knowing that did nothing to ease her. Her gold gun was still in her holster, right within her reach. She could easily use it on Len, make sure it’s not a lethal shot. Any other time, she would have done it without a second thought. But all Lisa could do was stare. She was petrified, helpless, _weak_.

  
All that time should have taught her something. Logically, she knew it wasn’t her fault that she couldn’t do anything, it was psychological, she was damaged goods. But pretty words didn’t help to cover up the fact that she was about to die by her own brother’s hands.

 

Ironic, she supposed. Lewis must be laughing in his grave.

 

The sound of the cold gun charging up resonated in Lisa’s ears, but she didn’t look away. No. The Len she knew was still in there, and he wouldn’t kill her. He’d always been the one to protect her, the only one to really care. Things would be okay. They would be fine-  
  
She saw the Flash returning in her peripheral vision, which made her wonder where exactly he’d gone in the first place. Lisa didn’t tear her gaze away from her brother’s eyes as she expectantly waited for him to snap out of his trance. But as the gun’s glow brightened, and as she stared into Len’s unchanging face, a coldness crept up inside of her. Everything seemed to slow as the realisation struck her-

 

She was going to die.

 

Before Lisa could get herself to do something, _anything_ , the flicker of yellow lightning flashed in front of her vision, and sent a gust of wind in Lisa’s face as it passed her by. When she was finally able to breathe again, she saw that Len was no longer in front of her.  
  
  
The Flash. He must have taken him. That would be the second time Lisa was saved by her ‘enemy’. Lisa would laugh at the irony if she could.

  
All she could do was keep staring up, at where her brother's face had been. All she could see now was the dark sky, and feel the cold breeze. It sure looked like it was about to rain. Hell, going by the feeling on her cheeks, maybe it already was.

Lisa slowly brought up her hands, and pressed them against her cheeks. The gloves felt unnaturally warm against her skin, and she used them to wipe away at her eyes. The usual overwhelming emotion she would usually experience at moments like these wasn’t there as she felt her eyes welling up with more tears. Maybe it was because she was having a hard time believing what had just happened, or maybe she’d grown as a person, and these sort of things had just stopped affecting her.

 

Hah. As if.

 

“Lisa,” a small voice called out, forcing her to raise her head after making sure those pesky tears weren’t around anymore. The face she saw wasn’t one she had been expecting to. Hartley Rathaway had an unusually concerned expression on his face as he looked at her with an arm barely outstretched, but not touching her.

  
Hartley’s concerned seemed to magnify as Lisa remained unresponsive. She stared at him with a lost expression, trying to decipher the reasoning behind his uncharacteristic concern. “Are you hurt?” Lisa ignored the question, and instead looked down at the hand he was holding out. The green lights caught her attention, making her realise the fact that Hartley was wearing his sonic gloves. She was sure that he hadn’t been wearing them when the Flash arrived, meaning that he must have put them on later.

  
How had he moved so fast to her side, anyway? Was…Had Hartley been planning to save her?

 

“I’m fine,” she choked out before she could let her mind wander off too far. This wasn’t the time _or_ place for any of this. They were in the middle of an operation. She wasn’t about to weaken herself any more than she already had, plus, it would be a waste to throw out months of planning. Lisa grit her teeth as she placed a hand on the ground and pushed herself up.  
  
The sudden shift must have been too much after the shock, because Lisa lost her balance and stumbled backwards.  
A tight grip around her shoulders prevented her from hitting the ground for a second time, but even then, she found herself feeling uneasy at the contact. “I said I’m fine,” she insisted, and this time, her voice came out much stronger than before. Shawna, who had caught Lisa, seemed entirely unconvinced as she began leading her towards their vehicle.

  
Although Lisa didn’t feel very appreciative of the fact that she was being treated like such a fragile object, she didn’t exactly trust the ability of her legs not to screw her over, so she let herself be guided just this once.

 

“And where do you think _you’re_ going?” A growl caught Lisa's attention, and Lisa turned to see Mark with a snarl on his face.

 

Oh, right.

 

Mark had Bivolo caught by his collar as he fearlessly stared him right in the eyes. If anything, Lisa would mark that as a sign of stupidity. But it was all too obvious that Bivolo was practically half scared to death, and didn’t look like he would be attempting anything rash. Well, that wasn't quite right, he _did_ look just about ready to fight for his life, so maybe scratch that second thought. If Mark pushed any further, the hole they were in would be dug even deeper.

  
  
Sirens. Lisa snapped her head around towards the direction of the prison, and bit her lip. Crap. She’d totally forgotten about the chase.

  
“We don’t have time for this,” Hartley announced Lisa’s thoughts, as if he had read her mind, and continued on with a quick gesture, “Bring him along.” He climbed back into the van, not waiting to see whether the others would follow along, and sat back down in his spot. He had his gloves off, and was back to typing barely a second later.

  
Despite the urgency of the situation, the team still appeared to be relatively confused. Mark was still holding onto Bivolo, and Jesse seemed just about ready to bolt off on his own. Why did Lisa have to everything around here? “We’re proceeding with the plan,” she gripped her fists tightly together, ignoring the remnants of her fear making her tremble. “Bivolo, you know the route, you’re driving,” she kept her voice level, and her gaze lowered. “Shawna,” Lisa unhooked herself from around her, and forced a smile. “You’re sitting upfront, don’t forget the plan.”

 

“But-You’re wounded. I can help-”

 

“The only way you’ll be of any help is if you don’t mess up the plan.” Lisa sounded was cold, and it sounded familiar in a way she didn’t like to hear in her voice. She could see that Shawna was taken aback by her tone, but she proceeded to her seat nonetheless, which was all Lisa wanted. She was not about to let herself get arrested on top of everything that had happened. “You two,” she waved at Jesse and Mardon, and climbed into the back, “With me.”

  
Once the engine started up, and the car doors were closed, Lisa was huddled up by the corner, furthest from the doors, and closest to Hartley, who had now stopped typing, and was staring at her. Lisa’s eyes were locked downwards, but she could still feel his eyes boring into her skull. She felt thankful that James and Mark were too busy chattering to themselves, so they wouldn’t see what she guessed was a display of pity.

  
  
“What?” Lisa snapped her head towards Hartley, and glared at him. She didn’t mean to be so contempt, but she hated being pitied. The fact that she could feel her eyes burning wasn’t helping, either.

  
  
Hartley didn’t seem too surprised by her outburst, as he continued looking at her. “The plan.”

  
The plan? Lisa loosened her grip around herself, and frowned.

  
  
“Since we had a late start, unless something slows the cops down, we’re not getting out of this.”

 

Oh. Well, she hadn’t been expecting this. Though that hardly classified as a better conversation than what she had thought Hartley had been about to say. She supposed that it wasn’t too big of a problem, though. They had a backup plan, after all. “Mardon. Get him to conjure a storm,” Lisa forced the words out and took a deep breath. This was fine. Distractions were good. “We’re not letting up.” Lisa pushed herself to smile again, and hope it didn’t look as bad as it felt.

  
Hartley grimaced, then nodded.

  
So that was a no for the smiling, then. Great.

 

She felt grateful that Hartley relayed the information over to Mark, meaning that she had to do less. Despite the importance of the situation, Lisa still couldn’t find it within herself to fully pretend as if she wasn’t affected.

The image of the look her brother had flashed in her head, making Lisa squeeze her eyes shut, and place her head on her raised knees. She couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t been in his right mind. The brother she knew, Lenny, would never hurt her. He just didn’t have a choice, he couldn’t do anything.  
  
Lisa kept reminding herself of how he hadn’t meant any of the things he had said, and how he must truly feel, but it felt like empty reassurances. Even though she _knew_ it was all because of Bivolo’s powers, she could feel herself growing numb.

  
The doors being swung open brought Lisa’s attention back to the present, and she opened up her eyes to see Mardon standing at the edge, his arms raised in a dramatic gesture as he brought on a thick fog along with heavy rain. The previously dim red and blue lights completely disappeared, and the only light Lisa could see was the occasional lightning bolt being brought down. A quick glance in front of them showed that the changes in weather didn’t seem to be affecting the area in front of them, which meant that they had a clear path to their destination.

  
Without the Flash there to stop them, the Rogues didn’t have to worry about their plans being interrupted, and it didn’t look like the police were going to be a real threat any time soon. What a great success. Everything had _basically_ worked out, if you didn’t account for the fact that Len was probably in the process of being locked up by the Flash, and the fact that the supposedly stealth mission had resulted in an incredible amount of commotion.

 

After this, Lisa would have to think up of a way to save Lenny. She brought her legs closer to herself, and wrapped her arms around them. Who knew what he was going through.

Yeah, it wasn’t like he had purposefully hurt his sister. Besides, Lisa had gotten way worse injuries, the ache in her stomach and the tingling on her knees was as painful as a scratch on the cheek. That had to be proof that Len had been somehow holding back, right? After all, he could have done a lot more damage.

  
  
Yeah. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. None of it had meant anything.

 

_'Let this be a lesson.’_

  
  
None of it.

  
  
Lisa wound herself closer together, and tightly shut her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for no update last week !! I was absolutely swamped. I'll do my best to make sure my regular updates stay regular !!
> 
> There'll be quite a bit more focus on Lisa before we switch back to Len, so I hope you guys love Lisa like I do !!! You guys were super nice with your comments in my last chapter, I'm honestly in awe <333 Thank you !! And as always, please do point out any mistakes and feel free to leave feedback !


	11. Recovery

Realistically speaking, things could have gotten a lot worse than they did. No one had gotten seriously hurt, and the Rogues had more or less achieved their objective. So, maybe, it was Lisa that was looking at it all wrong. After all, if it had been anyone else that had gotten whammied by Bivolo, she imagined that the situation would have descended into chaos much quicker than it had been about to with Len. Besides, it turned out all fine, didn’t it? The Flash raced on in and saved the day, as he was known to do, and the Rogues had successfully avoided the cops, and all they really had to do now was pick up Axel and Mick.

  
When Lisa raised up her head, it was in response to Shawna popping in. She had her gaze focused right on Lisa, with that annoyingly concerned look that practically screamed out how much she wanted to help. She was a good kid, but Lisa didn’t plan on bringing her into what didn’t concern her.

 

“What’s with the mood?” Mick’s voice felt too loud in the space that had been consumed by silence ever since the chase died down. Lisa’s discomfort must have been too obvious, as Mick was now staring at her.

  
No one seemed up to the challenge of responding. It especially didn’t seem to concern Mark, who had somehow managed to fall asleep after all that. James, on the other hand, actually had something to preoccupy him.

  
“Dad!” Axel called out with a huge grin on his face as he slipped from Shawna’s grip and promptly embraced James. Lisa would have thought it a joke, or some exaggerated form of respect, if it wasn’t for how James _actually_ returned the gesture, and the way he seemed to fill up with glee just like Axel.

  
Huh. Guess that made sense in its own way.

  
“Where’s Snart?” Lisa’s eyes snapped back to Mick’s, and she froze. Mick immediately stiffened, and stepped closer to her as his expression turned stony, “Is he-”

  
“No! No. That’s not what…” This was a bad idea. She knew that if she told Mick, he would freak out, and probably kill Bivolo. That wasn’t a very unappealing idea within itself, but Lisa knew it would only result in inherent chaos. Lisa turned her head away, and brought her knees closer to herself, as if attempting to avoid the conversation.

Maybe if she ignored it, the problem would just go away. If only. She heard Shawna take a few hesitant steps forward, and mutter a hushed explanation to Mick, as if it was some secret to be shared, and not something that they were all painfully aware of.  
Barely a minute after, she heard Mick slamming the doors of the van open, and stomping out towards what Lisa assumed was the front of the vehicle, where Bivolo was still in the driving seat.

  
Crap. Lisa frowned to herself, then pushed herself off of the spot she had basically cocooned herself in, and followed after him. “Mick-”

  
By the time she reached him, she saw that the driver’s door was open, and Bivolo was struggling against the handcuffs that he had apparently been put in, which was attaching his left hand to the wheel.

  
  
Mick, clearly oblivious, or simply uncaring, reached in, and pulled Bivolo out of his seat with a hand around his collar. The motion twisted his left arm in an unnatural way, which looked all too painful. The yelp from Bivolo indicated that, yes, if Mick wanted to, he could break that arm with almost no effort. “You little shit,” he growled, while maintaining his eerily wide grin, “I’m gonna enjoy this.”

  
  
Bivolo had his glasses on, the ones especially designed and constructed by Hartley to make sure that they would suppress his powers, and if the way he was fumbling about was any indication, he was powerless.  
On second thought, why should she care if Bivolo kicked the bucket? He had it coming to him, after what he did. If Lisa was feeling this bad from a punch to the stomach, she dreaded what Len was going through. Even though he wasn’t one to express it, Lisa knew how he feared becoming like Lewis above all. But that hadn’t been him that lashed out at her, it wasn’t his blame to take. It was Bivolo’s.  


A loud thud, followed by pained groans, called Lisa’s attention back. The side of Bivolo’s head was shoved into the window, Mick’s hand squeezing his head as he grinded his face in. His glasses were pushed up to his forehead, but that didn’t seem to concern Mick at all. “Let’s see how you like having those eyes of yours melted,” he hissed with a low voice as he leaned in closer to Bivolo. Every time it looked like there was going to be some resistance, Mick slammed Bivolo’s head against the window.   


As Mick tugged Bivolo by his hair, and smashed his head again, Lisa was sure she could see trickles of blood going down his face, and staining the glass. She stood and watched as Mick inched his thumb to Bivolo’s eye, and squeezed.

 

“Mick,” Lisa raised her voice, and waited until Mick turned around to continue, “Stop.”

 

She noticed Mick’s grip loosening for a second, only to tighten even more than before. “What?” he all but snarled at her, teeth grinding together in what seemed to be anger. Lisa could tell Mick was more confused than angry, though. It made sense. Lisa was also confused. It made sense to let Bivolo get what he deserved, but it just didn’t feel right. Damn it. Was she growing soft?

 

“We’re not killing him,” she sighed, and ran a hand through her hair. Mick stared at her, bewildered, then turned back to Bivolo. “Stay,” he punctuated his statement with a firm glare. As he let go of him, Bivolo slumped down to the floor, head lolling as he attempted, and failed, to steady himself.

 

Mick turned his glare towards Lisa, making her raise an eyebrow. “It was an accident.”

 

“An ‘accident’ that almost got you killed.”

  
Thinking Bivolo could be part of the crew was Lisa’s mistake, so really, maybe it was her that was at fault here, and considering the stupidity of that thought, she knew the blame game wouldn’t lead to anywhere. It was best to just let the whole thing bypass her. Killing Bivolo would surely offer some sense of satisfaction, sure, but it wouldn’t be a solution, and it most definitely wouldn’t erase what had happened. “But it didn’t. I’m fine.”

 

“That’s not- He’s gotta-” Mick flung an arm back towards where Bivolo was on the floor with a frustrated groan, and pulled out the gun from his holster. “Can’t just let him walk.”

 

Lisa saw Mick’s eyes dart towards her knees, and she followed his gaze. The blood from earlier was dried on her jeans, and there was a lot more than she remembered. She looked back up at Mick, who was back to glaring indiscriminately at nothing in particular. What a softie. “That’s exactly what we’re gonna do. You know how Lenny is, Mick. He’ll blame himself for all of this, and he’ll want Bivolo dead, but once all is said and done he’ll just revert to his old self.

 

“I know you’ve noticed it, too. Ever since the Flash. He’s changed, it’s like he has a purpose now,” she lowered Mick’s raised hand, which was holding the gun, and smiled, “Okay?”

  
Besides, she wasn’t about to let a guy get killed because of his inability to control his powers. All that meant was that he was most likely not going to be an asset for their team, didn’t mean that he needed to be killed, as much as Mick would beg to differ. Most importantly, if she let Bivolo die, she knew that Len would never be able to forgive himself. Not because he needed to kill Bivolo himself, no. He needed to see that Lisa wasn’t angry, and she didn’t need anyone to pay. She’d had enough of punishments.  


As much as people liked to claim that Mick was chaos thirsty, at times like these, he always managed to come through. He holstered his gun once again, and shrugged his shoulders. It looked as if he might change his mind as he stared at Bivolo, but then he turned and walked back into the van.

 

Lisa pressed a hand against her eye, and sighed. She looked up at the sky, and could see the sun beginning to peek out. Where the hell was Len? She could only hope that he hadn’t gotten himself in some kind of trouble. With yet another sigh, Lisa looked over at Bivolo. He looked absolutely pitiful. The side of his head was bruised, with one of his eyes swollen, and the other one red from the way Mick had pressed on to it. Lisa stepped over to him, and pulled out a bobby pin from her hair. She didn’t exactly feel sorry for him, but it wasn’t like she could just leave him there. “Listen here,” she stood over him, and leaned in into the car, “Don’t get any ideas just cause I’m letting you go, alright?” pulling the handcuffs towards her, Lisa focused on unlocking it.

She was pretty skilled at this kind of stuff. A turn there, and another twist over there, and _click_ . Lisa removed the handcuffs from the wheel, then knelt in front of Bivolo. “It’s not like I’ve forgotten what you’ve done,” she grasped his face in her hand, and stared into his eyes, “If you come near the Rogues again, you’re gonna end up in a much,” her nails dug into his skin, and she smiled, “ _much_ worse state. Got it?”

  
  
Despite the glare directed at her, the colour of Bivolo’s eyes didn’t change, and he nodded.

 

Good.

 

Lisa didn’t help Bivolo get up, but she _did_ watch him carefully as he clumsily got up to his feet. As he took a step forward, Lisa was sure he was about to fall, but he regained his balance, and continued walking. She highly doubted he knew _where_ he was heading towards, but she let him walk off, anyway. It wasn’t any of her concern. Not anymore, at least. She had better things to worry about.   
  
They would have to get to that safehouse as soon as possible, and then, Lisa would have to find Lenny. The number one clue for that would most probably be found in S.T.A.R. Labs. She didn’t think they would lock him up for what had happened, but she had to remember that they were the same people that unlawfully held the people that were now members of the Rogues. It wasn’t clear to her what drove them to such judgements, but all she had to know was that they were capable of them, and she should prepared for every possibly- and with a crew like the one she had? Lisa would be practically prepared for anything.

 

All she had to do was come up with a feasible plan that didn’t take too long. That was usually Lenny’s part, but hey, how hard could it be, right?  


* * *

  
As soon as they were in the safehouse, her so called crew was just about ready to fall apart. Mark was trying to make a statement about how he should be the one to lead the Rogues now that ‘that bastard Snart is out of service’, while Mick glared daggers at him. She could see his hand twitching towards his gun, and that wasn’t even the least of her problems. Shawna kept pestering her about her wounds, and yes, she understood the dangers of infection, thank you, but she also wasn’t in the mood to waste time.

Axel and James were muttering in among themselves, and that was enough to worry her. They looked like they were plotting to destroy the whole world, and knowing them, she probably wasn’t too far off the mark. As nice as being ambitious was, she really needed them to focus on more important matters. They could work on their _aspirations_ at another time. The only one that wasn’t being inherently troublesome was Hartley, who was camped up in a corner, and staring off into space with an unhappy expression.  


“Say that again, icicle, I _dare_ you.” Mick had his gun out, and was pointing it right at Mardon, who was in the middle of forming ice balls in his hand.  


Mark snorted, “That’s more of Snart’s thing, don’t you think? Oh wait-” he grinned, “Almost forgot about how he’ll be rotting away in one of the Flash’s personal jail cells.”

 

_“ Enough! ”_

 

Thankfully, Lisa spoke, or well, shouted, loud enough that everyone turned their attention towards her. The bickering came to a pause, as did the just as annoying whispering between the two Tricksters. “We _don’t_ have time for this.” She looked at Mark, and stepped closer, placing a hand on her hip, and frowning. Better get back in the zone, Lisa, no time means no time to mope, too. “Should I remind you how the only reason you’re out of _your_ cell is _because_ of my brother?” Mark opened his mouth, ready to object, but Lisa interjected, “For the second time, mind you.”

That seemed to quiet him down. She didn’t know whether it was the adrenaline or something, but Mark was being too rash. Considering how he was responsible for breaking Len out of Iron Heights before, she hadn’t expected him to be this gung ho about not returning the favour. Maybe all he needed was a little motivation. That’s what you got when you worked with a bunch of selfish criminals. Always have to appeal to their selfish nature.

 

“You’re _all_ here because of him, and you’ll _all_ be helping in bringing him back. Now before you start complaining, we’re the Rogues, alright? A team, a crew. We work together. After we get past this little _hiccup_ , we’ll get onto the good stuff. With the help of Lenny, our heists will be unstoppable, and you’ll all be drowning in cash and jewels.

“I’m sure you know about his record, about _our_ record,” Lisa indicated towards herself and Mick, who was now listening intently to her, instead of trying to rip Mark Mardon limb from limb. “The Rogues are no joke. We’ll be able to tear through everything and _no one_ , not even the Flash, will be able to stop us.”

  
She paused, and looked at the faces of the Rogues, who all seemed motivated to follow her. Huh. Who knew she was so good at giving inspirational speeches? That was a confidence booster. She usually left this kind of stuff for Len. Well, usually she left basically everything for Len, except the actual prizes from heists. But go figure, guess she had potential after all.

  
“But for all of that to happen, we need Lenny.”

  
Mark finally loosened his guard, the glow from his hand dissipating just as he rolled his shoulders, and threw himself onto the nearby couch. “Alright, boss,” he hooked an arm around the back of the seat, and rested his feet on the table in front of him, “What’s the plan?”

At first, Lisa wasn’t sure who exactly Mardon was talking to, but then it hit her. He was talking to her. _She_ was the boss. It was obvious that Mark had intended for the statement to be a sarcastic one, meant to be more of a joke than anything else, but Lisa still liked the sound of it.

  
“Yea, _boss_ ,” Mick followed along, grinning as he kicked Mark’s legs off of the table to walk in front of him, and sit on the armchair adjacent. He ignored the glare it earned him, and instead stared expectantly at Lisa, “Let’s get to it.”

  
  
Hartley, who at first seemed hesitant, seemed much more comfortable as he sat on one of the unoccupied seats, “If you need anything made, just give me the supplies.”

  
  
“Yeah! Like explosives. We need explosives. We currently have _zero_ explosives. It’s a travesty,” Axel chimed in dramatically, shaking his head from side to side as if having no explosives was as bad as not having any water. To him, that probably was the case.

 

Axel invited himself to take a seat next to Hartley, the latter whom suddenly grew incredibly annoyed at the uninvited presence. Axel didn’t seem to mind as he went on a rant about how you couldn’t really get _anything_ accomplished without the art of explosives, and how Hartley should trade in his sonic gloves for some cool bombs. Yeah, those two were an unlikely duo. Lisa would count it as a win if Hartley didn’t try to kill him by the end of the day.

James took a seat close by to Mark, leaving Shawna the only one remaining standing, hovering close to Lisa, still holding those medical supplies, and silently insisting on patching her up through the power of will alone. Lisa relaxed her shoulders, and dropped the hand from her hip, “First, I’m getting fixed up,” Shawna perked up at her words, and looked just about ready to hop up and down in excitement as she nodded and walked off to the counter to set down her supplies.

  
“Don’t forget that we’re still under the radar, unless we all want to be busted, we’re going to have to lay low before going on our rescue mission.” As much as she hated the thought of waiting around and doing nothing, she knew that rushing out to save Lenny, and ending up busted by the police, would be absolutely counterproductive. If she was going to do this, then she would have to make sure that she would do it right, without any mistakes, just like her brother would have. “So, rest up. Find a room, sleep in it. Or don’t. Not my business. Just don’t go anywhere.”

  
She got a varied response of affirmatives, which managed to ease her if just a little. Lisa followed Shawna over to the counter in the corner of the room, and sat down on one of the stools. Now that she was sitting down properly, she really wanted to just lay her head down, and sleep a dreamless sleep.

 

“Hey,” Shawna caught her attention, and Lisa looked up at her smiling face, “I’ll take care of you, alright?”

  
Lisa stared at her for a second, then cracked a smile. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, kid, I’ll be the one taking care of you all,” she huffed as she propped her head up on her hand. She sounded exactly like Len when he would start going on about how Lisa didn’t have to worry, and how he’d always be there to fix her up. The thought of it now wasn’t all too pleasant, especially when she remembered the cause of her injuries. But it wasn’t anything that would hold her down, nothing ever did. She’d get through it, just as she knew Lenny would.

“Thanks,” she muttered quietly, and turned her head  away from Shawna, who was busy dabbing something on a piece of cotton.  Shawna didn't respond, and Lisa didn't turn around to see if she had heard her (which Lisa was _sure_ that she must have). But either way, she wasn't repeating anything.

  
No matter the amount of time it took, Lisa would definitely get Len out of whatever mess he was now in. She'd enjoy being the one to save him, for once. But that's what siblings were for, anyways. It was just returning a favour, and as much as Lenny might say he wasn't deserving of it- well, no take-backs, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't do much of proofreading this time, so I'm extra sorry if there's errors !! [Please do point them out for me]. I think I'll go over this chapter at a later time, just because I feel like I've written some things weird? I don't know, tell me if you guys think so as well !
> 
> Thanks for the sweet comments as always, and for the kudos. Oh, and thank you to those that go over to read my other works as well, you're all too great ! <3 <3 <3


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